A Matter of the Heart
by mpluto
Summary: Modernizing the way Trapper does things turns out to be a real chore for the woman who's installing the new computer system at the hospital. Trapper finds she has a turbulent past, emotionally and physically, and digs in to find what makes her tick. Drama, Tragedy, Angst, Romance
1. Chapter 1

**Matter of the Heart**

**Chapter One**

All Trapper wanted to do was clean up, get some coffee and breakfast, and then go to his office, close the door and stretch out. His morning had started earlier than usual with back to back emergency surgeries. He hated days that started like this.

His shower was relaxing, and he lingered there enjoying the feel of the warm water cascading down his back. Coffee and breakfast were enjoyable enough with Gonzo to keep him entertained. But when he opened the door to his office, he stopped in his tracks, causing Nurse Shoop to run into him. "What is that?"

Ernie Shoop had tried to intercept him…to prepare him for what he was about to see, but he walked into the office like a man on a mission, proving to be too quick for her. "Good morning, Trapper."

"Ernie, we've already had two surgeries, and it's barely six a.m. All I wanted was to come into my office and try to find something normal in my day." He looked back at her and glared, pointing at the contraption on his desk. "_This_…is not normal."

"Yes, well, the project manager in the hospital's data processing department insisted on setting up your computer as one of the first. She said upper management needed to understand the system to set an example for everyone else."

Trapper walked to his desk, looking down at the box and monitor with a scowl. "I don't want a computer. I don't need a computer. Call her and tell her to come take it out."

"Why don't you tell her yourself? She'll be here in…" Shoop looked at her watch, "…fifteen minutes."

Smiling sarcastically at Shoop, Dr. McIntyre said, "I'll do just that."

Shoop grabbed the door knob to pull the door to, but before she stepped out, she stopped and looked back in. "A word of advice, Trapper…tread lightly."

"Tread lightly," he repeated under his breath, looking at the closed door.

Nurse Shoop had already met the woman who stepped off the elevator, so she observed everyone else as they turned around and watched. Though the woman was immaculately dressed in a slender black skirt covering her knees, a white blouse with a short tie, and a fitted jacket that matched her skirt, her bearing made the people in the hall stand with their backs flat against the wall as she passed. Her blonde hair, drawn up into a bun so tight it looked painful along with her sharp-looking stiletto heels, a posture that would make any drill sergeant proud, and an expression that said, "Don't waste my time," made them all rush to get out of her way as if they were hiding from a hungry, prowling killer shark.

"Good morning, Nurse Shoop." Without waiting for Ernie to return the pleasantry, she continued. "Would you please direct me to Dr. McIntyre's office?"

Smiling, even though she knew the gesture would be wasted, Ernie replied, "I'll take you. I have some patient files to drop off. This way, please."

Trapper didn't look up from his seemingly never-ending paperwork at a knock on the door. "Come in."

"Trapper, Ms. Haverty from data processing is here to see you, and I have the charts from your surgeries this morning."

Standing, Trapper gave Ernie a smile as he took the charts from her and waited for her to close the door behind her. He turned his attention to Ms. Haverty, extending his hand over the desk, "Ms. Haverty, John McIntyre. What can I do for you?"

Without shaking his hand, she said sternly, "Dr. McIntyre, you know why I'm here, but I'm sure you don't know the circumstances. Mr. Slocum said you might be difficult to work with. I assured him that I would personally handle your computer training."

"Well, in that case, let me make your job a little easier." He sat down and flipped open one of the charts. "Take it out of here. It's crowding my desk."

She continued, ignoring his last statement. "And I can assure you, Doctor, it is so easy a caveman could use it."

Trapper looked at her over his glasses. "That may be true, but the simple fact is that I don't need it. I have no problem organizing my time for paperwork, and I have a secretary to help me. What I do not have time for is learning about something I don't need."

"Dr. McIntyre, the only people who don't like computers are ignorant ones. Once you see what this 'magic light box' can do for you, you'll think it was the best invention since sliced bread."

"I seriously doubt it. Now, if you'll excuse me, my work here is saving lives…not playing with toys."

She smiled. "Very well, Dr. McIntyre. I'll see you in Mr. Slocum's office in…oh," she looked at her watch, "…about fifteen minutes." Wasting no time on his reaction, she was out the door before he looked up again.

He frowned and drew in a heavy breath, then threw his pen on the desk, mumbling, "Arnold and his money-making schemes."

Trapper was still fuming when the phone rang. "Hello, Arnold. Has it already been fifteen minutes? Never mind. I'll be right there."

Nurse Gloria Brancusi stood behind the desk at the nurse's station looking through a stack of paper from the inbox. Ernie had just returned from Trapper's office. "Ernie, did you see this?"

She looked over Gloria's shoulder. "No, I didn't see the announcement, but I did meet it."

Snickering, Gloria asked, "It?"

"We've already had a visitor from the basement."

"That must be an awful place to work. There are no windows down there, so no natural light."

"From what I understand, there's only twelve of them down there."

"But why not put them in some empty office space on one of the floors?"

"Haven't you been keeping up with what comes in that inbox? There is no empty office space. We're full."

"Good morning, ladies," said Jackpot Jackson, stopping to pull a chart behind the front desk. "Have you heard about the new Systems Group down in the basement?"

"Ernie and I were just talking about that," answered Gloria.

"They've already got a nickname – the 'shrooms,'" said Jackpot as he studied the chart.

"That's not nice," said Ernie.

Closing the chart and walking around the counter, Jackpot stopped and leaned in. "It fits. They come in early, go straight down to the basement and don't emerge until after dark in the evening. They're all in black suits and white shirts. What else could they be doing in the basement but growing mushrooms?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Ernie, smiling. "We're all supposed to be trained on the new computer system. It's supposed to replace a lot of the paperwork we have to deal with around here."

"Technology," said Jackpot, shaking his head. "With all the new technology in medicine and now technology that's supposed to reduce our paperwork, we'll all soon be looking for a new career."

"Oh, I don't think it will ever be that bad," said Ernie.

Jackpot spoke over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Would you like to bet on it?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Pushing the already slightly opened door, Trapper leaned in. "Arnold?"

"Trapper, come on in. I understand you've already met Ms. Haverty, so I'll dispense with the introductions."

Nodding, Trapper observed Ms. Haverty as he slowly sat next to her. She sat at an angle with her legs crossed and one foot wrapped around the other leg.

"Now Trapper, you have to take this training. It's not voluntary."

"Arnold, why are we doing this? I haven't heard any complaints about the way we do things around here."

"I'm sure you haven't. It's not our people who are complaining. It's our investors. We have to find significant ways to save money and modernize our operations. Using a computer system is one of the ways we can do that. Trapper gave him a blank stare. "All the other hospitals are doing it."

"Dr. McIntyre, you were in the board meeting when this was presented months ago. All of the department heads bought into it, except you. Weren't you listening?" asked Ms. Haverty. She received a glare. "Alright, you weren't listening, so I'll give you the gist of it. The first phase will put computers on the desks of key personnel. As the Chief of Surgery, you are one of those. It will save the hospital about three quarters of a million dollars a year. After the following two phases are implemented, the hospital will save around three million dollars a year."

Trapper turned to Arnold. "And when you do expect me to have time to learn how to use this machine?"

"It really won't take that long, if you'll just do it," said Ms. Haverty.

Smiling, Trapper said, "I believe I was addressing Mr. Slocum."

"Trapper, find the time," answered Arnold. "I'm not asking. I'm ordering."

"When would you like to start, Dr. McIntyre?" asked Ms. Haverty, leaning toward him, wearing a triumphant smile.

He regarded her, noticing she had quite a nice smile. Too bad it didn't match her haughtiness. "I'll have my secretary set up an appointment."

"In the next three days, please. Otherwise, you're compromising my schedule." She stood, shook Arnold's hand, and left the office.

As Trapper bit the end of the arm of his glasses, Arnold stood and leaned over the desk. "Trapper, give it a chance. It might mean you can actually leave the hospital on time."

Standing, Trapper turned to leave, talking as he walked out the door. "I doubt it." When he arrived back at his office, he walked past his secretary's desk, but then stopped and turned back. "Why the boxes?"

"I thought you knew, Trapper. The hospital is moving to secretarial pools now. Actually, they aren't even that. They're data entry. I either test for one of those positions or I'm laid off as of the end of next week."

"Oh no," he said angrily. "We'll see about that." He picked up the phone on her desk. "Arnold? You're laying off my secretary?"

"Now calm down, Trapper. She'll have a chance to test for a new position."

"Arnold, I need my secretary. You can't just take her away."

"You'll be doing most of the work she does for you on your computer. And there's no point in you writing out a letter for her to type when you can type it yourself on your own computer. Economic times are tough, Trapper, and they're just going to get worse. We have to remain competitive. Get used to it."

Before Trapper could say anything else, he heard a click and a dial tone. Groaning, he continued into his office.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Leah Haverty slowly relaxed as the numbers ticked off the upper dial of the elevator. By the time the doors opened on the office space in the basement, she had her shoes in her hands. She walked down the middle aisle of the cubicals belonging to her staff, and went into her own extra-large cube, sliding the frosted glass door over the opening. Quickly, she pulled on a pair of black slacks under her skirt, and then slid her skirt off. "Mark," she called over the cubical wall. "Would you come here, please?"

A man only a few years younger than she, stepped up to the wall of her cube and peeked over. "How'd it go?"

Stepping into her fuzzy pink piggy slippers, she answered, "As expected. Slocum warned me about McIntyre, so I didn't argue. I let Slocum tell him. Come in. I want to talk to you."

Mark Hansen slid the glass door to one side, stepped in and sat down on a chair in front of Leah's desk. None of the staff wore their suit jackets in the office, shedding them and loosening their ties by the time the elevator reached the basement each morning. He slouched in the chair.

"Mark, I need you to train the other department heads. McIntyre is going to be a problem. I'm sure it's going to take longer than we have in the schedule, and I'll be damned if he makes us miss our milestones." She handed him a piece of paper containing a graph. "Here are the names and the schedule. Go ahead and get on their calendars. They get paged for emergencies frequently, so the sooner you get started, the better."

After Mark left her office, Leah called McIntyre's secretary to schedule training with Trapper, knowing full well that he wouldn't. "And Ms. Tisdale, please schedule me for a time when he has no pressing appointments in a three hour period."

"I'll schedule you for Friday then. He tries to leave his calendar clear of any surgeries, so that is usually his lightest day."

"Thank you, Ms. Tisdale."

Ann Tisdale moved the receiver from her ear and looked at it. "How rude. She didn't even say goodbye before she hung up."

"Who was that?" asked Ernie who had just left Trapper's office.

"The Ice Queen."

"Did you expect anything less?" asked Ernie as she left the office.

Leah Haverty arrived at an empty office on Friday morning. She placed a book on Trapper's desk, and then sat in his chair, typing commands into his computer and writing down patient numbers, procedure numbers, and any other data she would need to train him. Once she was finished pulling training data, she moved to the chair in front of his desk and waited…and waited. She expected him to delay his arrival at the hospital just enough to miss his training appointment, so before she entered his office, she stopped at his secretary's desk and was able to schedule the next three hours by asking Ms. Tisdale to shift some of his appointments to the afternoon. When Ms. Haverty explained that this appointment was mandatory, ordered from Mr. Slocum's office, the secretary felt obliged. The fact that Ms. Haverty wasn't very nice about it only made her argue less.

When Trapper walked into his office at half past nine, he paused and smiled. As he had anticipated, the Ice Queen would be waiting for him. "Ms. Haverty, I'm sorry I'm late," he said, moving behind his desk and setting the book in the center to the side. He sat down and clasped his hands together, maintaining his patronizing smile. "I'm afraid we'll have to reschedule."

Adjusting from her cross-legged position, she placed both feet on the floor and leaned forward with a self-satisfied smile of her own. "That's quite alright, Dr. McIntyre. I know you're a very busy man, so I scheduled the next three hours as a backup. We have plenty of time." Trapper's smile was instantly gone. "Now, Dr. McIntyre, if you'll move your chair over in front of the keyboard, we'll get started."

"Before we start, I need to tell Ms. Tisdale to hold my calls unless it's urgent." While Ms. Haverty sat back and waited, Trapper left his office. "Ann, would you tell Gonzo to call me in twenty minutes, and tell him to make it urgent?"

She smiled and winked. "Consider it done."

Grinning, Trapper went back into his office and took his seat. "I'm all yours."

"Good. Now let's talk about your reference book first. This book has a listing of all the commands you'll need to enter information into the application or retrieve information from the application. So let's open the book and start from the beginning."

Leaning back in his chair, Trapper either closed his eyes or looked up at the ceiling, listening to "Blah blah blah," and typing whatever she asked him to type on the keyboard, then nodding at whatever came up on the screen.

Twenty minutes into the session, his phone beeped. "Dr. McIntyre, you have an urgent call on line one."

"Excuse me for just a minute," he said, reaching across Ms. Haverty to answer his phone. "Dr. McIntyre. When did this start?"

On the other end, Gonzo was making up the story as he went. He stuttered when he had to come up with a name, and looking down on the table in front of him, he spied a package of ketchup.

Ms. Haverty hit the speaker button. "…and so Mrs….Heinz…collapsed right on the floor."

Shooting up out of his chair, Trapper rushed around the desk and turned the speaker off, even as Ms. Haverty pulled the keyboard over in front of her and furiously entered something into the computer.

Trapper never yelled, but his first words were loud enough for Ms. Tisdale to hear. "Don't you ever…."

Ms. Haverty sat back and raised her hand to stop him, speaking firmly. "Don't you even start with me." Turning the monitor around, she pointed at it. "There's no record of a Mrs. Heinz in any department in this hospital." Hanging up the phone, Trapper moved his hands to his hips and glared at her. She stood and stepped so close they were almost chest to chest. Flicking the name tag on his coat with a finger, she continued in a low, harsh tone. "You know, doctor, you wear your Chief of Surgery badge like a crown, and you have all your little minions do your dirty work. You _will _learn to use this computer or you _won't_ be saving any lives. It's time to get over yourself, Dr. McIntyre, and stop wasting my time."

Lowering his head like he was about to charge, he grabbed her arm and pulled her across the office into his bathroom, standing her in front of his mirror. "Say that last part again," he said sternly as he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Leaning with his hand on the door knob, he held it while she tried to pull it open. "If you don't let me out of here, I'll have you charged with unlawful detainment!"

When he finally let go, she stormed out of the bathroom over to his desk, jerked all the wires out of the back of the computer, moved the monitor to the middle of his desk and gathered her things. She straightened her jacket before she said angrily, "Don't call me when you find you can't release any of your patients from the hospital." Moving the reference book and her notepad to the top of the computer, she picked it up, but when she turned toward the door, the heel of her shoe broke off, and she stumbled, catching herself on the arm of a chair where she deposited her arm load.

Trapper rolled his eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked with a noticeable lack of concern in his voice.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and exhaled loudly before she picked the computer up with her other things and hobbled out of Trapper's office on one shoed foot and one bare foot. As she hurried to the elevator, everyone in the hall and at the nurse's station stopped and snickered. Trapper followed her, leaning against the counter at the nurse's station with a pretentious smile, watching Ms. Haverty struggle to push the button in the elevator.

"Does that mean you won round two?" asked Ernie, grinning.

"My dear, that was the match," he answered, patting the counter and turning back toward his office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Mark Hansen was about to step onto the elevator as Ms. Haverty stepped out. She unceremoniously dumped the computer in his arms. "Come with me."

Following her to her cube without question, he stood and waited. She threw her shoe across the cube where it bounced into a corner, and then sat down hard in her chair. "Don't just stand there, Mark. Sit down." It was easy to see she was angry, so he sat quietly until she had calmed herself. "Mark, I need you to handle McIntyre," she said while dumping a pill from a pill bottle into her hand, popping it into her mouth and taking a sip of water.

"Me? Why me?" he asked, testily. He'd never met anyone she couldn't handle, so the thought of dealing with McIntyre was a bit intimidating.

"Because you know the system inside and out, you're a man, and you're good with people. Which makes me wonder why you chose programming in the first place. Most programmers are rather odd and prefer to work alone. Anyway, it's clear he's not going to accept training from me. Maybe he'll listen to a man."

Looking down at the computer in his lap, Mark said, "Well, it's obvious it didn't go well, but it's not like you to let anyone gain the upper hand."

"I know when to cut my losses. Our schedule is more important than trying to deal with a man who's full of himself. And I'm not letting him get the upper hand. We're waiting for a helpless phone call, I'll gloat a little while, and then I'll go up and set the trap. After that, he's all yours."

"You know, Leah, if you'd treat all the king's men up in the ivory tower like you treat us down here, you wouldn't have a problem."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't be able to make anything happen. I prefer them to be afraid of me. That way, they do what I ask just to get rid of me, and we make our schedules. But McIntyre. He thinks he is the king."

"Have you ever thought about making friends with any one besides us?"

Turning around to face her computer, she typed a password in and answered. "Why bother? I don't usually stay in one place long enough to nurture friendships." She turned in her chair to look at him. "Except maybe for you because you keep following me around." She turned back to her computer. "Besides, when you don't have friends or family, you don't get hurt. Anyway, I don't expect this to take longer than a day or two." She spun back around and leaned into her desk, pointing a pencil at him. "Don't let him off the hook, and don't let him snow you. He didn't get where he is by being stupid, so I'm sure he'll pick it up quickly enough."

"If that's true, why is he giving you trouble now?"

"Because he's old, and he's set in his ways. Old people don't like change. Now, get out of my cube. I have more specs to write," she ordered with a wink. "Oh, and Mark…" Mark turned back around on his way out. "You'll have to find some new cables for that CPU. I'm sure I broke the ends off when I pulled them out," she said, smiling apologetically.

Two days later, when Leah answered her phone, she smiled, leaned back in her chair and listened. "Good afternoon, Ms Haverty, this is Ernestine Shoop. Dr. McIntyre asked me to call. It seems he's unable to complete the release of a patient from the hospital without inputting an authorization code in the computer system. No one else seems to be able to do it for him, and without it the orders to release her can't be sent."

"Nurse Shoop, Dr. McIntyre was given all his codes in his training…oh, yes. He refused to take his training. I suppose he'd like me to come and input his authorization code for him." All she heard was Ernie clearing her throat. "Tell him I'll meet him in his office in twenty minutes." Hanging up the phone, Leah yelled over the cube wall, "Mark, it's time."

Twenty minutes later, Mark Hansen stepped out of the elevator in his black suit, white shirt and black tie. Gloria whispered to Ernie, "Incoming 'shroom."

Turning and looking down the hall, Ernie asked, "How do you know he's from the basement?"

"They all dress the same…black suits, white shirt, and highly polished shoes. Besides, look what he's carrying."

"Good morning, ladies," said Mark with a brilliant smile.

Gloria glanced at Ernie with a quickly raised eyebrow. "Good morning. How can I help you?"

"Can you point me in the direction of Dr. McIntyre's office? He's learning to use his computer today."

"Just follow this hall to the end, and then go into the offices on the right. His name will be on his door," answered Ernie.

Winking, he said his thanks, and walked down the hall away from them with both ladies straining to lean far enough over the counter to watch him go. "Nice…suit," said Gloria with a twinkle in her eye.

Standing in the open door, he watched as Trapper sat on the sofa, reading a journal and sipping coffee. "Dr. McIntyre, I hate to interrupt your reading. I'm Mark Hansen from the Systems Group."

Trapper set the journal down on a table and stood, offering Mark his hand. "Mark, it's nice to meet you, but I thought Ms. Haverty would be meeting me."

"Leah's on her way. I just need to reinstall your computer."

"Leah?"

"Yes, Leah Haverty."

Looking away for a moment with a furrowed brow, Trapper thought about that name. It certainly sounded sweeter than its owner appeared to be. "Please, go right ahead," said Trapper, motioning to the other side of the desk. He turned at the sound of a familiar voice.

"I see Mark is installing your computer," said Ms. Haverty, standing confidently in the doorway.

Trapper smiled and looked down at her feet. "Nice shoes."

Leah snorted. "Dr. McIntyre, I have no more time to waste on you. Mark will be training you, and at the end of your training, I'll give him your authorization codes so you can release your patient."

"She was scheduled to be released this morning," he said, turning his head slightly and frowning.

Turning to leave, she replied, "Take it or leave it…the training, that is."

Walking down the hall with Mark toward the cafeteria, Trapper continued their conversation from the office. "Mark, I still don't think this is going to replace everything my secretary does for me. Do you have any idea how long it will take me to type some of the letters I dictate?"

"That was a consideration, Trapper, but we've found that over a fairly short period of time and with regular use, you'll get pretty fast, even if you just use two fingers," Mark answered, holding up his index fingers. "And you can still submit letters to the data entry group. There will be a couple of typing clerks there. We've looked at the letters that typically go out, and we've created some templates you may be able to use as well. You just change whatever you need to change and send it. The letter will print in the print room and will be delivered for you to sign."

Each man took a tray when they entered the cafeteria. "I've never eaten here. What's good?" asked Mark.

"Stay away from anything fried." Trapper leaned over as if to say his next words quietly. "And it has nothing to do with it being bad for you."

Mark grimaced. "I'll keep that in mind."

"If you're into health food, you can't beat their salads," offered Trapper, taking down a salad for himself. Mark followed suit. Finding a table near a window, Trapper waited for Mark to be seated then lowered himself into a chair. "Tell me something, Mark. You're a fellow who's easy going…easy to work with. Why is Ms. Haverty so…rigid?" he asked, pointing over to a corner table where Leah sat with her back to the occupants of the cafeteria. "I mean look at her…the epitome of unapproachable."

"Leah doesn't normally do any of the training, other than for her staff. She gives all the presentations to the decision makers of a company. But she comes out bearing claws when we run into hesitant people like you…people who could cause some significant delays in the project. She's never delivered anything late in her life, including her children."

Trapper stopped eating and looked up, surprised. "Children? She's married?"

Mark met Trapper's stunned look, and then glanced over at Leah. "She was."

Trapper soon realized there was a sudden silence at his table, so he steered away from personal questions. "Is she that way with her staff?"

"Not at all. When you get to know her…if she lets you get to know her, she's actually very nice, very supportive."

"How long have you worked for her?"

"We graduated from Perdue a couple of years apart…she was a student instructor. Since then, I've always followed her on her assignments. If you want to learn this business, she's the one to learn it from. Where a lot of us struggle with the concepts, she seems like she was born to it. She's very musical, too."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Musical theory is almost pure logic. So is what we do. It stands to reason that computer programmers are generally good musicians."

Trapper pushed his bottom lip up and gave a quick nod. "Nice to know."

"Don't be too judgmental of her, Trapper. She's one of the few successful women in our industry. It's an industry dominated by men, and the only way she's survived is by standing toe-to-toe with them when it came time to fight."

Studying Mark as he ate, Trapper creased his brow, and then moved his eyes over to Leah. Based on the small amount of information Mark gave him, Leah Haverty seemed to be quite a dichotomy. "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I question her authority."

That evening, as Trapper was leaving the hospital at 9:15 p.m., he ran into Leah Haverty, leaving at the same time. Opening the door for her, he said, "Good night, Leah," as she passed.

She stumbled to a stop and slowly turned around with a completely unexpressive look. "Ms. Haverty."

Smiling and bowing slightly, he replied simply, "Good night."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Two weeks after Trapper's indoctrination to computers, he decided to make peace with Ms. Haverty. Taking the elevator to the basement, he was surprised when he stepped out into a relatively dim space, carpeted and quiet with a square of twelve cubicals, six on each side of one aisle and a large cube at the end of the aisle. The cubes reminded him of islands, each having its own light source shining down on just the area inside the cube. Trapper slowly walked down the aisle, listening and looking into the cubes. The area was almost silent except for the sound of the keys of keyboards clicking. The occupants of each cube sat with his back to the cube opening, oblivious of his presence. By the time Trapper got to the end of the aisle, he realized that all the cubes were occupied by men.

The end cube was empty, but the tag on the outside bore the name of Leah Haverty. Trapper stepped in and looked around. The first thing he noticed because of their bright pink color was a pair of fuzzy slippers underneath the work table at the far end of the cube. He smiled, thinking that someone as hard as Ms Haverty appeared to be couldn't really be that cold if they owned a pair of…he bent and looked closely at the slippers…fuzzy pink _pig_ slippers. Other than the slippers, there didn't seem to be anything in the cube of a personal nature; various awards, charts, her computer, books…all kinds of technical manuals. All the desk accessories were black and white just like the clothes she wore. The only thing that looked remotely out of place was a pill bottle. Picking it up, his mouth opened slightly when he recognized the name of the medication. He made a mental note of the prescribing physician, and then carefully replaced the bottle where it had been just before Ms. Haverty stepped into her cube, carrying her high-heeled shoes in her hand.

"Wha…what are you doing here?" she stuttered. She bristled at his amused grin, and quickly slipped her shoes on. "Dr. McIntyre, I prefer appointments."

"I'll keep that in mind. But as long as I'm here, may I speak to you?"

She assumed her straight, rigid posture, and then cocked her head so severely Trapper heard her neck pop. "Go ahead."

Smiling and quickly glancing away for a moment to hide a chuckle, Trapper explained, "I came down here to offer you an olive branch. There's really no reason for us to be at each other's throat."

"I don't recall going for your jugular, but that could change. Look around you Dr. McIntyre. Do you see anywhere at all in this office where an olive branch might survive?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Where?" she asked quite emphatically, looking around her cube.

Giving her a wide grin, he walked by her out of her cube, and on the way to the elevator, he spoke a little louder than normal so she would hear him. "Have a nice day, Leah!"

She stood motionless. What did he mean by finding a place where an olive branch might survive? And of all the nerve, coming down here into her domain! How would he feel if she suddenly intruded on his operating room? She stomped to her desk, kicked her shoes off and pushed her feet into her slippers.

When Trapper stepped off the elevator on his own floor, he spotted Ernie at the nurse's desk. "Ernie, would you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Trapper."

"Would you let me know when Ms. Haverty leaves for the day?"

"And how am I supposed to know that? We're not on the first floor near the door," said Ernie, clasping her hands on top of the counter.

Leaning on one arm and laying his hand over hers, he smiled sweetly. "Yes, but you do have friends in admitting, do you not?"

Ernie looked sideways at him. "What are you up to?"

"I'm going to attempt to turn the Ice Queen in the dungeon into a living, breathing human being."

"Oh, Trapper. You don't want to take that on," Ernie warned.

"Oh? And why not? Wouldn't you prefer a warm work area to the freezer this place turns in to when she's here?"

"Mark Hansen from the basement said there's a very good reason she's that way. He didn't say why, but in my experience, it has something to do with her heart."

Thinking of the pills he found on her desk, he asked, "Why do you think something's wrong with her heart?"

"Because I'm a woman, and I know a broken heart when I see one. Leave her alone, Trapper. I don't think she wants to be rescued."

"Hmf," he replied, straightening. "Then would you mind calling Dr. Avery at Cedars? Ask him to give me a call when it's convenient."

"What shall I say it's about?"

"One of his patients." He squeezed her arm with a smile, and walked down the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

A quick knock and an open door could mean only one person in particular walked into his office. Trapper didn't even look up. "Gonzo, do you think you could wait, at least, until you're invited in?"

"Why Trap? You've usually got your head bent over your desk. It's not like I'm gonna catch you in the act of…" Gonzo shoved his hands into his coat pockets, turned slightly and tightened his lips together, "…arguing…with Ms. Haverty."

Trapper looked up from his reading material and hovered his right hand over the keyboard of his computer. "Mark told me I could look up information about organ transplants. I'm trying to figure out how to do that."

Leaning over Trapper's shoulder, Gonzo watched as Trapper typed something. "What kind of information?"

"Statistics mainly, by the surgeons who performed them. There, you see; Dr. Avery's surgeries, by date, gender, age of the patient, procedure and success or failure. How old do you think the Ice Queen is?"

Gonzo straightened up. "Uh, Trap. Is there something about Leah you're not telling me?"

"Leah?" said Trapper, looking up at Gonzo over his glasses. "How'd you get to be on a first name basis with her?"

"She volunteers at the university's children's hospital. I met her there when I was transferring a patient. Did you know she donated her time to install their system?"

The buzzer on Trapper's telephone sounded, and as he reached for the phone, he said, "Does the word dichotomy mean anything to you? McIntyre. Thanks, Ann." Pushing another button on the phone, Trapper said, "Alton, thanks for getting back to me."

When Gonzo pointed toward the door, Trapper shook his head and waved him over to the sofa. "Retired? When did that happen? Well, congratulations. I'm calling about a former patient of yours; Leah Haverty. Well, no, I didn't exactly find her. She's installing a new computer system here at San Francisco Memorial. I know of her already? Alton, I think I'd remember meeting this woman. The news. Leah Lewis. John Lewis, the orthopedic surgeon? Let me think…I seem to remember reading something about an accident. Uh huh. Uh huh. Oh. Yes, I remember now. She was the only one in the car who survived, but only because she got her husband's heart. Mm hm. I'll do my best, Alton. Thanks for calling." Trapper hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.

"What is it?" asked Gonzo.

"That was Alton Avery at Cedars…well, not anymore. He's retired. He just referred Leah's case to me since she's here in San Francisco. Apparently when she left LA she signed a release and transfer form for whoever Alton thought best, but he had no idea where she was."

"I couldn't help but overhear. Who would have guessed she's a transplant patient?"

"Yep. Alton said she's missed her last three checkups."

"Well, you're not on very good terms with her. How are you gonna get her to let you take a look?"

Smiling, Trapper leaned back up in his chair. "As the lady requested; set up an appointment. You said she volunteers at the children's hospital. What does she do?"

"She entertains the kids in the long term care ward."

"The terminal kids?"

"Yeah."

On his day off, Trapper walked through the doors of San Francisco Children's Hospital at the University of California, nodded to the nurse at the admittance desk as if he knew her and continued down the hall and up the elevator to the office area of the hospital. Leaning around a door frame, he said "Tom. Am I too early?"

Dr. Tom Prescott stood behind his desk and beckoned Trapper to enter, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. "Come on in, Trapper. I can't wait to hear why you're here."

After shaking Tom's hand, Trapper sat down, smiling. "I'm sorry to get your hopes up, but I'm not looking for a job."

"Too bad. We could use you. We never seem to have a shortage of kids who need cardiothoracic work."

"Actually, I'm here to see one of your volunteers. I understand Leah Haverty volunteers here."

"She does, and the kids love her. But why would you be interested in one of our volunteers?"

"Because she just became a patient of mine, and I'd like to get an idea of her lifestyle."

"A patient of yours? Heart trouble?"

Trapper crooked his jaw with a slight smile. "Tom, you know I can't discuss that with you."

"I do. I just never saw her as someone who would need the kind of services you offer. She looks so healthy."

"Who said she's not? Alton Avery retired. He's turned her over to me."

Standing, Tom said, "Let's take a walk. I believe she's here now."

When they arrived on the ward, Tom looked through the glass of the door, and pushing it, he said, "Here she is."

Trapper touched his arm. "Wait. I think I'll just watch from out here. I don't want her to know I'm watching. It might make her act differently." Peering through the door, he asked, "Where is she?"

Tom looked at him rather skeptically. "Don't you recognize your own patient? She's sitting right there," he said, pointing. "The one with the guitar."

Trapper's eyes widened as he raised an eyebrow. "So she is. I usually don't see her in casual clothes with her hair down."

"I've never seen her any other way." Taking Trapper's hand and squeezing his arm, he said his goodbyes. "I'll leave her in your capable hands, Trapper. Let me know if you need anything else."

Nodding, Trapper turned to watch Leah with the children. She was dressed in blue jeans, tennis shoes and a sweater with her hair falling down around her shoulders, quite a departure from the strict business façade he was used to seeing. And the children seemed quite enamored of her, gathering around her as she sat crossed-legged on the floor, all of them mesmerized by the musical story she told. Trapper laughed at the faces the children were making when she had them sing with her, seemingly in response to faces she was making at them. Unfortunately, Trapper couldn't see that part. He was looking at her back.

At the end of her hour with them, the children lined up in front of her, and still sitting on the floor, she held each one in her arms like they were her own, whispering, he assumed, words of encouragement because each child nodded or frowned. Frowns didn't seem to matter because each frown was turned into a smile before the child left her.

When she had gathered her belongings, she walked to the door. Trapper stepped behind a meal cart, but watched as she turned back until the last child had disappeared into his room. When she came through the door, Trapper swore there were tears in her eyes, and when he watched her walk down the hall to the elevator, he noticed she hung her head. After spending what looked like an uplifting hour with the children, she seemed sad…almost heartbroken. It appeared the iceberg had melted today.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Ernie and Trapper met in the parking lot early and walked to the hospital together. They stopped when they heard a loud car behind them, and turning, they watched a Mustang pull into a parking space, all the while, the smile on Trapper's face getting bigger and bigger.

"Trapper, you look like you just won the lottery," said Ernie.

"Ernie, do you have any idea what that is?" he said, nodding toward the car.

"No, but you're about to tell me, aren't you."

"It's a 1970 Boss 302 Mustang; the fastest street car ever built." His smile was gone and his brow furrowed when he saw who got out of the car. Putting his arm around Ernie, he turned her toward the entrance to the hospital. "Don't look now, but Leah Haverty just got out of that car."

"I guess she likes muscle cars," said Ernie, chuckling.

"I'd bet it has more to do with image and power. Ernie, I have a list of surgeons I want you to call. Ask them to say they aren't taking new patients if Leah Haverty calls."

"Your appointment with her is today, isn't it?" When he was silent, she stopped and asked, "You didn't say what the appointment was for, did you?"

Trapper rolled his eyes. "Do you think she'd come if she knew? Anyway, I have a secret weapon." Ernie looked up at him with wide eyes. Looking around him to see if anyone was within earshot, he said quietly, "Gonzo."

"Nurse Shoop."

Ernie looked up to see Ms. Haverty standing at the counter. "What can I do for you, Ms. Haverty," she said, looking back down at the chart she was updating.

"I have an appointment with Dr. McIntyre, but he's not in his office. Do you know where I can find him?"

"Yes, he's in exam four."

Leah looked doubtfully down the hall. "Is he with a patient?"

Ernie raised her eyebrows, acting uninterested. "Not yet. You can go on in."

Turning, but hesitating, Leah felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This was highly unusual. Still, she took a deep breath and marched down the hall to the exam room. When she opened the door, Gonzo looked up from a chart he was studying. "Dr. Gates? I was supposed to meet Dr. McIntyre here."

As soon as she was through the door, Trapper pushed it closed and stood in front of it, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Glaring, she took a slow breath before she turned. "McIntyre, I don't have time for your little games. If this isn't about the system, we have nothing to discuss."

"Did you know Dr. Avery retired?" asked Trapper calmly.

She froze and held her breath for a moment before she answered. "I don't know what you're talking about, and you're wasting my time again," she said, reaching around him for the door handle.

Trapper didn't budge. "He referred your case to me."

"Wh…why would he do that?" she stuttered.

"Because he knew you were in San Francisco, and he knew I was available."

"Surely, there's another surgeon who can take my case. What are you not telling me?" she asked angrily. "I don't believe he just picked you out of the blue."

"Cyclosporine is used to treat two conditions, and Dr. Avery isn't a dermatologist. I saw the pill bottle on your desk."

She turned away, wringing her hands, looking at the equipment in the room. "What do you want?"

"Dr. Gates will be your attending. I'll be consulting."

Chuckling nervously, she looked at Gates. "You're a little young, aren't you?"

"Trust me. I'm older than I look," said Gonzo, giving her a reassuring smile. "You haven't had a checkup in eighteen months. It's past time."

"I can't today. I have appointments," she said, heading for the door. Trapper didn't move, and when she met his eyes, she saw only concern. "Don't even try to pretend that you care."

"Leah, believe it or not, I understand. I know why you present yourself as cold and unapproachable. I know why you volunteer at the children's hospital. I even know why you drive the car you drive."

She turned her back to him. "So now you're a shrink."

"He doesn't have to be a shrink," said Gonzo. "All he has to do is read your medical history. But now that you've brought it up, I'm going to schedule you for some sessions with Dr. Matthews, our staff psychologist."

Leah had walked away from both men and now faced a wall. "I don't need a shrink. And I feel fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Leah, you know better than that," said Gonzo. "You knew when you woke up from surgery that you'd be under constant watch for the rest of your life. And according to your files, you never saw a psychologist after the accident. Now, we're not leaving this room until we do an echo of your heart and you take a stress test. I'll ask Dr. Matthews to talk with you after we're done."

"And if I refuse?"

Trapper turned and leaned against the door on his shoulder. "Then I'll contact the human resources department of your employer and recommend you be put on medical leave until we can verify that you _are _alright."

Spinning around, she spat, "You can't do that. I'm in the middle of an implementation. There's no one else who can do it."

"Not true. You're far enough along that Mark can handle it."

She stiffened and turned her back to Trapper again, her breath heavy. "If you force me to take leave, they'll never bring me back. If they find out about…they'll find a reason to let me go."

She jumped when Trapper put his hands on her shoulders and spoke quietly. "I doubt that. After all, you are one of the best at what you do. And if these tests come out normal, there's no reason to tell them." Turning her around to face him, he continued. "Now, I'm going to ask Nurse Shoop to assist Dr. Gates. I'll be back to take at look at the results," he said, smiling. When she looked up at him, he met her eyes, and for the first time, he saw fear.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Trapper turned from his coffee maker after hearing paper shuffling at his open door, where Gonzo was studying Leah's EKG readout. Watching him for a moment, Trapper knew by the crease of Gonzo's brow that something troubled him.

"Are those Leah's?"

"Mm hm."

"Well, let's take a look."

Handing the folded paper to Trapper, Gonzo stood next to him and used his pen to point to the area that concerned him. "See that noise there. It's only slight, but…" He took the echo to the light box on Trapper's credenza. "What do you make of that?" he said, pointing to something on the echo.

Taking a deep breath, Trapper crossed an arm and propped his elbow on it, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "It could be nothing."

"Yeah, but it could be a weak spot," said Gonzo. "It's big enough to make noise. Don't you think we ought to go in and look?"

"Ordinarily, I'd say yes. But I think I'd like to hear what Matthews has to say before we discuss it with her."

"Trapper, if that is a weak spot, it could turn into an aneurism. I'm not sure we can afford to wait."

"If she becomes emotionally compromised because she hasn't dealt with the accident, opening her up right now could be too risky. The stress could push her into an aneurism. She needs to be calm when we go in. Why don't we go see how Dr. Matthews is doing, hm?"

Trapper and Gonzo met Dr. Matthews in the hall. "Eric, are you already finished with her?" asked Trapper.

"Yes and no. I wasn't finished. She was. She left."

"What happened?" Trapper asked anxiously.

"Trapper, you know I can't divulge anything that was said."

Trapper moved a hand to his hip and bowed his head before he spoke, holding his hand out for emphasize. "Look, Eric. There's a situation with her heart that could turn deadly. I need to know where her head is."

"She refuses to talk about the accident, and there's nothing I can do to make her talk if she doesn't want to. From what I understand, she had no idea what happened until she came out of surgery with her husband's heart in her chest. And even then she didn't know who the donor was. She wasn't told until days later that her husband and children all died in that crash. And it was even longer before they told her the heart had belonged to her husband. I would imagine she's just not been able to deal with it, so she doesn't. I will tell you that, from what I hear around the hospital, her job might kill her as easily as facing her past."

"So what do you recommend?" asked Trapper. "At some point we'll have to go in."

"Well first, I'd suggest some time off."

Looking at Gonzo, Trapper drew his mouth into a tight line. "That's easier said than done."

"Trapper, I don't care how you manage it, but without some help, that woman's headed for an early grave."

Nodding agreement, Trapper said, "I'll go downstairs and talk to her. She's scared now. Maybe she'll listen to reason. Gonzo, I'll let you know how it goes."

Trapper leaned against the back wall of the elevator with his hands in his pockets, staring at the elevator door. When it opened, Mark Hansen stepped in. "John, how are you?"

Trapper answered with another question. "Mark, have you been in the basement in the last few minutes?"

"I came up about five minutes ago, why?"

"Did you see Leah?"

"Yeah, she was just coming down as I was leaving?"

"How'd she look?"

Mark thought for a moment before he answered. "Come to think of it, she looked like her mind was somewhere else. Is she alright?"

Trapper managed a smile and put a hand on Mark's arm just as the elevator door opened at the basement. "For now," he said as he stepped out of the elevator.

Leah saw Trapper come out of the elevator just as she was leaving her cube. She hurried left, going around the back of the cubes as Trapper walked up the aisle. Peeking around the corner of the last cube, she reached out to touch the up button. Thankfully for her it didn't take the elevator long to arrive, and when the door opened, the bell rang and she stepped inside. Hearing the bell, Trapper turned around and ran down the aisle as Leah feverishly pushed the floor and close buttons.

"Leah, wait!" yelled Trapper, arriving just in time to bang his fist into the closed door. Almost out of breath from running up the stairs, Trapper ran out the front door of the hospital just in time to see her car leave the parking lot. He hurried back in, took the elevator up to his floor, and went to the nurse's station, leaning on the counter while catching his breath. "Ernie, find Leah's home address."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Just hurry," he said impatiently.

"John," called Mark, running out of the elevator. "I found this note on Leah's desk."

Trapper read aloud, "Mark, I'm taking a few days off. Hold down the fort." Grabbing Marks arm, he said, "Come with me. Ernie, I'll be in my office. Bring me that address as soon as you find it." Trapper went straight to his desk, turned around and leaned back.

"John, what's this all about?" asked Mark with a trouble frown.

Holding his hands up, Trapper said, "Just listen. How well did you know Leah's family…what happened to them."

Mark stood straight and dropped his hands to his sides. "I was at the hospital when they brought them in. John, Jr. and Beth, her children, were already dead; drowned, and John, Sr. was unresponsive. They were working on Leah as they rolled her through the emergency room."

"As I recall, Leah and her husband were thrown out of the car. The children were still in it when they pulled it out of the river."

"That's right."

"So who made the decision to give Leah her husband's heart?"

"There was no family, but John had a living will and a very comprehensive will and trust. Their attorney made the decision based on what was in John's will."

Trapper scratched his beard and walked around his desk, sitting in his chair, and motioning Mark to sit on the sofa. Leaning back and propping his feet on the corner of his desk, Trapper thought for a moment, then asked, "How long was it before she went back to work?"

"That's the spooky part, John. She was back to work in only three months. Admittedly, most of what she was doing at the time she could do from home, but when she came back into the office, she was…well, the way she is now. And she works god-awful hours. I wonder sometimes if she sleeps at all."

"She wasn't this way before?"

Mark laughed. "No, not even close. She was the same toward me, but anyone else…she just wasn't interested in being nice to anyone. She said recently that without family or friends, she couldn't get hurt."

Trapper sat up when Ernie walked through the door. "Trapper, here's her address."

"She has a rooftop apartment near the wharf," offered Mark.

"One last question, Mark," said Trapper as he removed his white coat and pulled on his suit jacket. "Is there any danger of her losing this job if she needs to take some time off?"

"I don't think they'd let her go even if they could. If she's on medical leave she gets disability, and our company is self-insured, so they have some stricter rules about letting people go who are already out. It really wouldn't matter financially. John had some hefty life insurance, and they were already pretty well off. Besides Leah's salary, John was an orthopedic surgeon. He took care of the Rams."

"Thanks for the information, Mark."

"Dr. McIntyre, is something wrong with Leah?"

Smiling, Trapper walked Mark out of his office. "Don't worry. It's not anything we can't take care of."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Traffic around Fisherman's Wharf was bad at any time of the day. Trapper stopped his car in the traffic lane just long enough to look for her car in a parking lot, starting a cacophony of blowing horns. He pulled in and parked next to her car. When he stepped out, he looked up at the roof and saw a bright pink wind sock fully inflated. This was an older building; one of the old cannery buildings that had been converted into upscale apartments some time ago. Trudging up the stairs, he came to the last flight of stairs that led to a small landing where there was only one door.

He knocked and listened, but heard nothing. He knocked again a little harder, and when he heard no response again, he called, "Leah! It's John McIntyre. We need to talk."

"Hey mister!" came a voice from the bottom of the flight of stairs. "Maybe the lady ain't answering because she doesn't want to talk to you."

Turning, Trapper met the man halfway down the stairs. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm John McIntyre, her doctor. She left the hospital unexpectedly, and I was worried. I know she's here, but she's not answering her door."

"You think there's something wrong that she can't?"

"Yes, I do. We could go call the police, and the paramedics, and an ambulance and completely clog up the street, or…" he said, arching an eyebrow.

The man scratched the gray tufts of whiskers on his chin. "You say you're her doctor? You got any kind of ID?"

Pulling out his wallet, Trapper said, "Yes, here's my hospital ID."

"Chief of Surgery? She must be some important patient."

"She's just the one that needs my help at the moment," said Trapper, smiling impatiently. "Would you mind opening the door?"

"Well, alright. If you think she's in trouble," said the manager, pulling himself slowly up the remaining stairs. He knocked. "Ms. Haverty, I'm unlocking the door so's this doctor fellow can check on you."

A voice answered from the other side. "What?" After they heard the thump of several locks being thrown, the door opened. "Mr. Davis, what on Earth are you doing?"

"This fellow said you might be in trouble. He's a doctor, you know. He was banging on the door."

"I was in the shower. Really, Mr. Davis, I'm fine."

"What about him?"

Leah glowered at Trapper, but eventually said, "He's harmless. Thank you, Mr. Davis." She walked away while drying her hair with a towel, leaving the door open. "What are you doing here, Dr. McIntyre?"

Trapper looked around, surprised at the comfortable, warm-looking apartment that opened up to a garden terrace on the roof. "I went down to your office to speak to you about your test results, and when you avoided me I got a little concerned," he answered, holding his hands out to the side.

"Please, doctor, sit down," she said, sitting down herself and crossing her legs with her robe open almost to the top of her thighs.

Trapper couldn't help but notice she had very nice legs. Her feet were hidden somewhere inside a pair of furry white and gray puppy slippers. Smiling, he sat down on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his fingers loosely clasped. He cleared his throat before he started. "Leah, there's a suspicious area on your heart that Dr. Gates and I feel needs a closer look."

She snorted. "It's not my heart. My heart died when my husband and children died. This one is just on loan."

Trapper held his breath for a moment, completely unprepared for that response.

"Isn't that why you and everyone else at the hospital call me the Ice Queen?"

Taking a deep breath, Trapper turned his head slightly and looked seriously at her. "The heart beating in your chest has no idea where it began. It knows nothing other than to react to the autonomic signals from your brain that tell it to beat. It also reacts to the stresses of the broken one, and that's what may have caused what we're seeing."

"And what exactly are you seeing?" she asked, appearing completely detached.

"There may be a weak spot in the atrial wall of your heart. Dr. Gates and I won't know how bad it is until we go in and take a look."

"And if you don't?"

"If it is a weak spot, it could become an aneurism; it will rupture and leak. If the leak is slow, we'll have time to fix it, but if it ruptures completely, you'll die in minutes."

"So you think my heartlessness has caused this weak spot."

He cast his eyes down for a moment, and then met her eyes. "I don't think you're heartless. But I do think the pain of losing your family is too much for you to handle alone."

"Dr. McIntyre, let me explain something to you. My husband, in his infinite wisdom, decided when we were married that he would do whatever it took to keep me walking this Earth. Only he never thought I'd have to walk it alone. Had I been given the choice, I would have died right along with them. I don't really care if this heart in my chest ruptures, because the heart that counts died the day they did. Now, if you'll excuse me, I did take the day off to get away from you people."

Standing, Trapper walked toward the door, but turned back around with a stony look when he opened it. "You leave me no choice. You'll be out on medical leave by tomorrow."

She clenched her teeth and looked away. "Al_right_!" Turning her back to him, she said, "I need some time."

"How much time?"

Looking up at the ceiling, she said, "A week, maybe two."

"That's too long. It could rupture by then."

"Look, I need to get the schedules and designs finished for the second phase, and I need to get the hardware ordered. Then Mark can take over for awhile."

"You can have six hours a day, Monday through Friday, and you have to come up for an echocardiogram every other day. And you _will_ take time to relax. That means you can't go to the children's hospital."

Spinning around, she almost yelled, but realized he was right there in front of her, looking into her eyes. She opened her mouth, but closed it again and blushed. With her head bowed, she asked quietly, "Why can't I see the children?"

Lifting her face with a finger under her chin, he answered, "Because it's too painful for the heart you claim is dead."

She turned away too late. He had already seen her tears. Looking around him for her telephone, he picked it up and dialed. "Ernie, Trapper. Yes, she's here. Tell Mark she's fine. Listen, something's come up. Would you reschedule my afternoon appointments, and ask Gonzo to cover my on call? Thanks, Ernie. You're the best."

Wiping her face, she asked, "What are you doing?"

He clasped his hands in front of him. "You know, it's been quite a while since I took a walk on the wharf. Why don't you go get dressed, and I'll show you what I mean by relaxing? I know it's been so long since you've done it, you probably don't remember how."

Stepping around him, she shook her head and laughed. "Dr. McIntyre, you're incorrigible."

"Yes, well, that makes two of us. Now, go change. You can't walk down Fisherman's Wharf in nothing but your robe. They'll arrest you," he said with narrowed eyes and a smile.

As she walked toward her bedroom, she spoke over her shoulder. "I doubt that. This _is_ San Francisco, after all."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Trapper trotted to catch up with Leah who was walking at quite a clip. Taking her arm, he pulled her back into him. "You're not running a race, and you have no appointments this afternoon. Slow down."

"Sorry. I should have known you'd have trouble keeping up with me."

Sucking the inside of his cheek in, Trapper replied, "I'm having no trouble keeping up with you. As a matter of fact, on any other day, you might have trouble keeping up with me…" she snorted, "…but today, you're supposed to be relaxing instead of rushing to get this over with. Slow down, take a look around you, breath in the salt air." Shaking her shoulders, he added, "Loosen up. You really don't know how to relax, do you?" She looked back at him, and sharply cocked her head, popping her neck. "Stop popping your neck like that. You'll throw it out."

She took off again, but he grabbed her hand and held it. "Now, slowly. That's better." As he swapped sides, he pulled out the hair pin that held her hair up on her head, allowing her blonde locks to fall gracefully over her shoulders. Her hand went up immediately to try to stem the fall, but when Trapper handed her the hair pin, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving up. "How clumsy of me," said Trapper, smiling impishly.

"I suppose if I put this back in…" she said, holding out the hair pin, "…you'll just pull it back out."

"Smart girl."

As they walked down the ocean side of the street, hand in hand, Trapper could feel her slowly unwind as her grip loosened. He stopped in front of a small harbor and looked out into the bay. "Leah, have you ever been out in the bay?"

She looked out wistfully, but dropped her gaze to the ground. "A long time ago. In another life."

"Tomorrow's my day off. How about I take you out; maybe do a little fishing?"

"I don't know. This is all so…awkward," she said, taking her hand out of his.

"How so?"

Turning to face him, she moved a strand of hair away that had blown across her face. "You're not my friend. You're my doctor."

Squinting in the sunlight, Trapper replied quietly. "Gonzo's your doctor. There's no reason we can't be friends." She glanced up at him doubtfully, then turned and continued down the sidewalk. "Why can't we?" he called after her.

"Why can't we what?"

"Be friends."

When she straightened, Trapper watched all the rigidity come back. "I don't have friends. I don't want friends. I don't need friends."

"So what is Mark?"

She stopped and looked ahead at something. "Mark's different. He's always been there. It just never changed. Would you excuse me for a minute?"

Grabbing her arm, he said, "Uh uh. You're not running away from this."

"Why would I try? You know where I live. I'm just going over to that flower vendor on the other corner," she said, pointing. "I'll be right back." He reluctantly let her go, and true to her word, she bought a bouquet of flowers and came back. "McIntyre, have you ever had fresh crab from a sidewalk vendor?"

Smiling, Trapper said, "A long time ago. In another life."

"Come on. I'm buying," she said, winking. Upon turning the corner, they picked their way through a crowded sidewalk lined with vendors selling all kinds of fresh seafood prepared right there in front of them.

Leah stopped and waited until the man behind the counter looked up, and when he did, his eyes brightened. Trapper grinned when he saw the smile she returned; a bright, beautiful, beaming smile that lit up her face and eyes.

"Miss Leah, it's been much too long. How are you?" asked the vendor.

"Leo, I'm doing well, thank you. How is Carlotta?"

"The doctor says she can come out for awhile if she feels like it. He said her last round of chemo may have done the trick. She was here for awhile this morning with the kids."

"That's wonderful news." Passing the bouquet over the counter, she said, "These are for her. Please give her my well wishes."

Leo nodded. "Wait. I have fresh crab for you and your gentlemen friend." Rather than taking a cup of crab from the case in front of him, he took two fresh large cups and lifted a crab out of a big, steaming vat, cracking it and filling both cups with succulent, white crabmeat. Passing them over the counter, he said, "On the house."

"Leo, that's too much. Let me pay you."

"No," he said, waving his hand and frowning. "You have done so much for my Carlotta. This is the least I can do. You will never pay me for seafood again. Do you hear me? I'd hug you, but I'm a mess," he said, motioning down at his apron. "Now go before I cry in my vat and make it too salty."

Leah and Trapper strolled down the sidewalk and crossed at the light. "I'll have to remember you have a friend here. This crab is delicious." She looked ahead without responding. "Where are we headed now?"

"Over to Boudin's for bread. There's a bench on the other side of the museum with an unobstructed view of the bay. There's usually a few people fishing back there, and the sunsets are beautiful." At the checkout at Boudin's, Leah grabbed a handful of suckers and placed them on the counter. After she paid, they walked through the museum and settled on the bench, watching the people fishing while their children were running all around.

"Miss Leah, Miss Leah," they yelled and ran up to her at the bench.

One of the children turned around. "Papa?" The fathers lined up on the rail all turned, and seeing Leah on the bench, smiled and nodded. Pulling the suckers out of the bag, Leah handed them out one at a time, waiting each time for the child to say 'thank you.' Then she pulled a chunk off the bread loaf in the other bag and offered it to Trapper, after which she pulled one out for herself.

"Leah Haverty, you've been lying to me," said Trapper as he took another bite of his crab.

Looking out across the bay, she asked, "How do you figure?"

"You said you don't have friends, you don't want friends, you don't need friends."

"These people aren't my friends. I don't even know their names."

"Carlotta?"

"She's different. Leo and Carlotta have two small children at home. They have no insurance, and Carlotta has breast cancer. Leo's on that sidewalk, selling crab seven days a week. I can't imagine what would happen to those children if they lost their mother."

"So you footed the bill for her treatments…for her children." She shrugged. "I see. Whether you like to admit it or not, Leah, there is a heart in there, and it's alive and well," he said, chuckling.

She continued to face forward. "If you don't stop looking at me, you're going to miss the sunset." The last of the children and fishermen had gathered their belongings and left. The two found themselves sitting quietly, eating crab and bread. Listening to the plaintive cries of the seagulls flying over head and the tranquil lapping of the water against the seawall, they watched until the last sliver of orange dipped below the horizon, sending a slate blue hue over the water and bringing with it a cool breeze.

Leah stood and looked down at her feet. JJ was eight years old. Beth was five. They had no chance at life." She looked back to the street, squinting in the light of a street lamp. "Maybe these kids will." Walking away, she dumped the rest of the bread and her cup of crab in a garbage can and continued on.

Standing, Trapper shouted as he watched her go. "Tomorrow morning, bright and early…fishing."

She just waved and kept going.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Looking over the cube wall, Trapper stood quietly watching Leah work on what looked like engineering schematics, wearing slacks and her pink pig slippers. He moved to the door of the cube, and when she didn't look up, he ventured further in to the front of her work table. Still, she didn't acknowledge him, so he cleared his throat.

"Speak," she said, continuing with her work. When he didn't speak, she finally looked up. "Dr. McIntyre, wha…? She closed her mouth, and sat back in her chair. "I'm sorry. I don't get visitors. My staff just tells me what they need, and I can usually answer them without breaking my train of thought."

"I thought you were off on weekends," said Trapper with a frown.

"Well, I was supposed to go fishing, but someone stood me up." Trapper winced. "It's alright, Dr. McIntyre. I didn't want to go anyway."

Taking a deep breath, Trapper said, "That's why I'm here…to apologize. I got called in early and ended up in a three hour surgery. I tried to call your apartment when I got out, but I saw your car in the parking lot. Which brings me back to my first comment; why are you here?"

She swept her arms over her desk and looked down. "Isn't that obvious?"

"We agreed on six hours a day, Monday through Friday. It's Saturday."

"You wanted me to relax. Believe it or not, this is relaxing." She gave him a defiant look, and then bent back over her work. "The quicker I get it out of my head, the better I feel. And the less I think about other things," she added under her breath.

"I thought you were a programmer. This looks more like an electrical schematic."

She breathed in deeply, and put her pencil down, then sat back again. "It is an electrical schematic…of sorts…only there's a lot more to it. This is an infrastructure schematic for all the hardware and cabling required for the new system. For the second phase, I have to put new computers in all the exam rooms, operating rooms, nurse's stations and admitting. The third phase will put computers in all the non-essential areas like the kitchen and laundry."

"What about the labs and pharmacy?"

"Those went in the first phase along with durable and non-durable equipment, imaging and the blood bank."

"Where is all this…infrastructure?" he asked, pointing to the center schematic.

"Haven't you noticed the new poles? No, I suppose you haven't. You didn't get one. We went through your floor. They aren't really poles. They're conduit." She looked at him quizzically and asked, "Do you want to see it?"

"See it?" he asked with raised brows.

"Yes. This," she said, pointing to the middle diagram from where everything originated.

Trapper smiled. He wasn't about to turn her down if she was actually willing to share her work with him. "I'd love to."

Rolling away from her desk, she kicked her slippers off and pulled on a pair of plain black rubber-soled shoes, then stood and led him out of her cube and around the back of her staff's cubes.

"Nice shoes," he said, chuckling.

"Uh huh."

She left him standing in darkness while she went to turn on the lights, and while he was waiting, he listened to a constant, deep hum and an occasional sound that reminded him of the centrifuge in the lab spinning. Then he heard eight sharp clicks, and with each one a bank of lights came on, starting fifty feet away and stopping over his head. His jaw dropped slightly as he took it all in. It made him feel like he had just stepped into a futuristic science fiction movie.

"This…," she said waving her hand in front of them, "…is what all those schematics are about. This is the hospital mainframe capable of processing millions of instructions per minute. These machines run hot, so the floor is raised and the ceiling is lowered to keep a constant flow of cold air circulating around them. These cabinets down the left side are the actual mainframe computer containing the central processing units. In the middle, the shorter machines are disk drives and over on the right are magnetic tape machines. We've even got a few machines over there that use cartridges that look similar to an eight track tape rather than reels. Not only is the floor raised for air conditioning, but all the cables that come out of these machines travel away from here under this floor," she said, bending and pulling up a panel, revealing a space full of cable, conduit and flashing lights. "And over here, extra electrical lines come in to power these puppies as well as T1 circuits from the phone company. That's how we send and receive files from insurance companies, the state and federal governments and several data warehouses, and that's how you were able to look up Dr. Avery's patients."

Trapper closed his mouth and jerked his head toward her. "How did you…?"

"Every time you press the enter key, what you looked at, changed or deleted is logged, Dr. McIntyre. I get an audit report on my desk every morning of anything deemed unusual, and while we're rolling this out, I trend how the computers are being used and who's using them." Wearing a satisfied smile, she headed back toward the light switches. "You like your new computer, don't you, McIntyre?"

He harrumphed and scowled while her back was to him, but the minute she could see his face, he wore an insolent smile. When they arrived back at her cube, Trapper scratched his nose and said, "I have to admit; I have a new respect for what you do here." Noticing her struggle not to smile, he added, "And you shouldn't try so hard not to smile. It's been proven that the simple act of smiling relieves stress." The corner of her mouth turned up as she studied her diagrams. "Now, what time did you get in?"

"About eight. Why?"

"Because you've already worked four hours on a day you weren't supposed to work." She looked up at him wearing an exasperated glare, causing him to raise his hands in defense. "I know you said it was relaxing, but the idea is to get you out of this basement and into the light of day." Walking around her desk, he held out his hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked, removing her rubber-soled shoes and putting her high-heels on.

Trapper looked sideways at her, doubting what he heard. Was she going without a fight? "Well, I thought we'd get some lunch, and then maybe go for a drive down the coast. I'll rent a car with a convertible top, and we'll take in the scenery."

"Let's go," she said, standing.

"Wait a minute," he chuckled. "This is too easy. What are you up to?" he asked, moving his hands to his hips.

"It's quite simple. The quicker I can prove to you I can relax, the quicker you'll drop me from your little project list. Now, let's go relax," she said, walking out of her cube toward the elevator.

Trapper hesitated for a moment, and then followed her. "You are not a project, Leah. Why is it so bad that someone is concerned about you?"

She pushed the button and faced him with her lips pursed. "If you were so concerned about me, you wouldn't be holding the one thing I have left over my head." The bell rang, and she stepped into the elevator with Trapper behind her.

"Don't give me that," he said with an edge to his voice. "You're not going to lose your job if you take medical leave."

"And what else am I supposed to do?"

"Read a book, play your guitar…go fishing."

He hadn't noticed she had moved right next to him and was glaring up at him. "Back up a minute. Play my guitar? How do you know I play guitar?"

Flaring his nostrils, he closed his eyes and moved a hand to his head. "It doesn't matter. The point is... Nevermind. It doesn't matter what the point is." He faced forward and clenched his jaw. "I'm trying to save your life while you're trying to find a way to kill yourself without being accused of suicide. If that's what you really want, don't let me stop you. The rest of us can all get back to normal and forget Leah Haverty ever existed."

Leah backed away to the far corner where she stood quietly, looking at the wall to keep him from seeing her face. When the door opened, both stood still. "I don't feel sorry for myself. I don't feel anything," she said softly.

The door closed, and both remained motionless. "Not true. You're the angriest person I've ever met."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**Warning – strong language in this chapter!**

Trapper had worn his jeans that morning, intending to leave right after his surgery. Leah drove to the rental car lot, where Trapper found a convertible, and then followed her home where she changed into casual clothes. Since they had stepped out of the elevator, neither had said more than 'turn here' or 'follow me.'

Now, on their way to lunch, Leah said softly, "I'm not angry."

Once again, they shared a tense silence.

Stopping at a restaurant in Pacifica, they were led to a table with a view of the ocean. Leah sat quietly, looking out the window until the waiter took her order.

"Chef salad with avocado and light Italian. Just water to drink," she said, smiling up at the young man.

"I'll have the same," said Trapper. "At least you're eating right."

She gave him a blank look, propped her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand, and turned back to the window. "I'm not angry. I'm permanently numb."

"How can you say that after yesterday…Leo and Carlotta…the children behind the museum? And what about the children at the children's hospital?"

Moving her hand to her forehead, she looked down at the table. "I thought I was supposed to relax today, McIntyre. I don't want to talk about this."

"Why don't you call me Trapper?"

"Why?"

"Because my friends call me Trapper," he said, taking a sip of the water that had just been delivered.

She snorted. "You're not my friend."

Trapper watched her make every effort to avoid his eyes. "Why did you come with me then?"

Folding her lips into a tight line, she glanced upwards and nodded. "You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

"How else am I going to find out what makes you tick?"

"I told you. My job makes me tick. Without it, the old ticker might as well stop ticking."

"If you don't want to call me Trapper, call me John." Again, he watched her eyes, and as he expected, she lowered them.

It took her a while to answer, and when she did, her words were barely audible. "I can't call you John."

"Why not?"

This time she looked him right in the eye. "Did you ever meet my husband, Dr. McIntyre?"

Both leaned back when the waiter brought their salads, and when he left, they unrolled their stainless out of the napkins and moved the napkins to their laps. Trapper took a bite before he answered. "I met him at some of the medical conventions we both attended over the years. I wouldn't say I really knew him. We were acquaintances."

"So you never spoke to him."

"We shook hands, we said hello and goodbye, but other than that, no, not really. He was interested in bones and joints, I was interested in organs, so we went our separate ways to separate sessions."

"You remind me of him."

"Oh? In what way?"

"Well, you'd both be the same age." Trapper turned his head to the side, looking at her suspiciously. Smiling, she said, "Remember, I have access to everything.

He stopped eating. "You looked up my personnel records?"

Scowling, she answered, "Don't give me that violated look. You looked up my medical records before you were my doctor."

"I'm not your doctor."

"See, that's even worse." She rolled her eyes. "You're the same build, same height, you have a beard, he had a beard…you're both surgeons." Chuckling, she continued, "You know it's funny. I met him because I injured my knee in a skiing accident. I met you because of my heart…his heart."

"Ah, there, you see? You are attached to that heart as much as it's attached to you." There was that silence again. "Why are you angry at him?"

"Who?"

"John."

"Why would I be angry at him?"

"Anger is just another emotion, Leah, just like the grief you feel for your children."

The clatter of her fork against her salad bowl made the other diners turn and look as she stared at Trapper with tears welling in her eyes. She nervously glanced out over the restaurant, and then turned back to the window. "I know you're doing this to me because I won't talk to Dr. Matthews? So now you're going to play shrink?"

Trapper didn't answer, but rather took another bite of his salad. "Tell me about your car."

"What about it?"

"You just don't see too many of those in cherry condition," said Trapper with a wide grin.

Sitting back, she crossed her arms in front of her. "It was John's baby…his project. He loved that car."

"So you kept it."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Doc, but nothing so noble. My car was destroyed. That was the car that was left."

"Still, it must be fun to drive," he said, winking.

"It serves a purpose."

"Mm hm," he said, taking another bite.

Once on the Pacific Coast Highway, Leah pulled her hair back in a pony tail to prevent it from flying in her face. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the sky, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Trapper glanced over and smiled. She seemed to be enjoying the ride…relaxing.

"How far are we going?" she yelled.

"Have you ever been to Pescadero?"

"I stopped once to get gas. Does that count?"

"No," he said, grinning widely.

"What's in Pescadero?"

"It's sort of a little village…artist enclave, very old-fashioned and very friendly."

They spent several hours walking through the shops of Pescadero; antiques, handmade furniture, metal works, an artisan bakery, a soda fountain. When they left, they drove across the highway to the beach. Parking the car, they removed their shoes and walked out onto the warm sand, strolling toward a trail that went up a gentle slope to the top of the cliffs. Even though it was a very nice day, there weren't many people on the beach.

"Thank you, McIntyre. It's been a long time since I've taken the time to explore places I've never been."

Walking beside her with his hands in his pockets, he chided, "But you've been to Pescadero...for gas."

"Yes, but I didn't take any time to explore it."

"Why not?"

She stopped and looked at him, squinting and holding her hand over her eyes to block the sunlight. "I guess because it's not as nice to explore alone."

"Leah, you don't have to be alone. There is life after..."

Squatting, she picked up an auger shell, then stood and continued to walk, twirling the shell in her fingers. "No, not really. Not when…." She stopped and brought her hand up to her mouth, then continued, walking a little faster.

Trapper waited and watched her go. Looking out at the waves, he took a deep breath, and then trotted to catch up to her, dreading what he thought was about to come, but ready to catch her when she finally let it out. "Not when they were your life? Not when _he_ was your life?"

"Leave me alone, McIntyre," she barked before she began to run up the trail. When she reached the top, she stopped and bowed her head into her hands, shuddering in tears.

Trapper caught up and held her arms, but she angrily shrugged him away. "Leah, why are you so angry at John?"

Darting toward the cliff, she stopped only a few feet from the edge, punching violently in the air and yelling out over the ocean, "You bastard! You dirty son-of-a-bitch! You took my children, and you left me here. You and your damned attorney!" By this time, she had wrapped her arms around herself, and as she slowly collapsed to the ground, she sobbed, "I don't even know if my babies knew what was happening to them…or if they were afraid." Trapper wrapped his arms around her, pulling her away from the edge and holding her as she went down.

It took a while for Leah to bring herself back under control. Holding her, Trapper patiently waited, and when she began to quiet, he released her and leaned back next to her, propping on an arm.

Leah sat crossed legged in the grass beside him, taking the handkerchief he was holding out to her, and wiping her face. "John's attorney said his instructions were if something happened, and we were all together, the children and I were to be saved first." She sniffed. "The attorney said there was nothing he could do for the children. They were already gone. Even though I was dying, I wasn't dead yet. There were several law suits filed immediately by the families of people who were on the waiting lists for a heart. They said they had been waiting first, and it wasn't likely I would survive, so I shouldn't get it. But the court said the family was always first in line for a relative's organs."

"That's true, no matter the chance of survival."

Tearing up again, she said softly, "He should have let me die. Why would he think I'd want to go on without them?"

Trapper took her hand. "Leah, you make it sound as if John planned all this. He didn't. It was an accident. It seems he loved you and the children very much." She looked over at him, and he could see in her eyes that she was spent. Standing, he held his hand down to her. He felt she might not take it, and smiled when she did. Pulling her up off the ground, they walked over to a bench where they sat in silence until the sun set.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

Trapper pulled the car up to a small cafe in Half Moon Bay. Leaning toward Leah, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

"No," she answered quietly.

"Should you eat something anyway?" he asked with raised eyebrows. She huffed and got out of the car. Asking for a table on the deck, the two were soon seated with a view of the small fishing harbor. The glow of the lights on shore illuminated the boats closer in. Those ships further down the pier swayed in dark shadow with their black masts looming over them in the night sky. Poring over a one page menu, Trapper asked, "See anything palatable?"

"Soup."

Trapper ordered for them, asking for a bottle of red wine.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to drink alcohol."

"That's mostly true, but a glass of wine now and then isn't going to hurt." He leaned forward with his arms on the table. "Leah, why do you volunteer on the long term ward at the children's hospital? It seems to me you'd stay away from there, knowing…"

"Knowing they're going to die?" She stared at the candle on the table, moving her fingers back and forth over the flame, letting her tears flow freely. "I didn't get to see my children. They were long buried before I woke up. I didn't have a chance to say goodbye. I wasn't able to hold them or comfort them."

Trapper sat with his elbow on the table and his hand over his mouth. "You said you didn't know if your children were afraid. I might be able to answer that for you."

She stopped staring at the flame and quickly looked up. "How?"

"By taking a look at the autopsy reports…the cause of death. You'd have to sign a release to get them."

She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. "They drowned."

"If they were already unconscious they wouldn't have known they were drowning. Considering how far down the car rolled before it went into the river, I'm betting they didn't know."

She swallowed hard. "What if you find they weren't unconscious?"

Taking her hand, he answered, "Then it won't be any worse than it already is. But it will make a difference for you if they didn't know what was happening. I wouldn't offer to do this if I thought it wouldn't give you some peace."

She studied him for a moment. "Why are you doing this? Surely you don't go to these lengths with all your patients."

Sitting back, he took a sip of the wine that had just arrived. "I like you; despite yourself," he said, slightly cocking his head and shrugging. "Besides, I'm not your doctor." She quietly chuckled. "I heard that."

Walking Leah to her door, Trapper took her key and unlocked it, pushing it open. "Don't forget. You have an appointment with Dr. Gates Monday for another echocardiogram."

She scowled and glanced up at him before she stepped inside her apartment. "Thanks," she said humbly.

Smiling, Trapper replied, "Your welcome," and slightly nodded. "Good night." He turned and headed down the stairs, looking back when he got to the bottom just in time to see the door close.

At seven a.m. Monday morning, Dr. McIntyre walked through the front door of San Francisco Memorial Hospital expecting a fight on his hands. He'd seen Leah's car in the parking lot and had laid his hand on the hood, finding it cold which meant she had been there over an hour. Going straight to his office, he pulled files out of his briefcase, setting them on his desk, and as he did, he glanced over at his coffee machine to see if it had finished making his morning cup. Staring at it for a moment, he scowled, dropping the last file on the desk, then stomped to the coffee maker and started a pot, looking out the door at the empty desk once occupied by his secretary.

He left his coffee brewing and walked out to the nurse's station. "Good morning, ladies," he said as he began pulling charts to read his patients' statuses before making his morning rounds.

"Good morning, Dr. McIntyre," said Nurse Brancusi.

"Did you enjoy your vacation?" asked Trapper. Hearing Ernie chuckling behind him, he looked up from his chart, eyeing Nurse Brancusi over his glasses. "What happened this time?" Gloria smirked and let out an exasperated breath, then walked away. Turning to Ernie, Trapper asked, "What's wrong with her?"

"I'm afraid her luck with men wasn't any better than it was the last time she went on vacation," said Ernie.

"Hm. Anything I need to know before I go on rounds?"

"Yes. Mrs. Baxter had a rough night. She vomited in her bed. You need to check her sutures. And Gonzo kept Ms. Haverty in an exam room this morning. I don't know if she's still there."

Ernie had Trapper's full attention. "Why did he keep her?"

"Her blood pressure was high. He said he thought she might have cried all day yesterday because her eyes were swollen."

Trapper pushed the chart he was holding into Ernie's hands and hurried down the hall to exam four where the ECHO and EKG machines where kept for non-admittance examinations. When he pushed open the door, Gonzo was just pulling the paper from the EKG. "Gonzo, where's Leah?"

"I went out to answer a call, and when I came back she was gone. I was just about to go find her."

"Her car was in the parking lot when I came in, so she's still here at the hospital. Why don't you take the results back to my office? I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"Trapper, if she's still here, I need to find her. Her blood pressure was one fifty over ninety-two. If we don't get it down, that spot we've been watching might rupture."

"She's probably in the basement. I'll go bring her back up," said Trapper, turning toward the door.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. You're not her favorite person."

"I may not be her favorite person," said Trapper. "But I don't think I'm on the bottom of her list any longer." He opened the door, then reached back to take a cuff before he left. "Hold the elevator," he called, trotting down the hall, stepping in just before the doors closed.

When he got to the basement, he stepped off the elevator, but stopped before he headed down the aisle. The lights were on behind the cubes, so he turned left. Turning the corner, he found her on her knees with her head down in a hole and her behind up in the air. "Leah. What are you doing?"

Her voice muffled, she answered, "I'm looking for a wiring harness. There's supposed to be a wiring harness right here, but when the guys pulled the cables, it must have gotten dragged along." She pulled her head out of the hole and sat down. "I have to keep up with those things. They're expensive, and I can't just keep ordering replacements when they go missing. I'll blow my budget." She looked up at Trapper who was standing over her with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.

"Why did you leave the exam room? Didn't Dr. Gates tell you your blood pressure was too high?"

"He did, and I tried to tell him that all I needed was to come down to the basement. He didn't want me to leave, so I waited for him to walk away, and then I came down. You have a cuff. Why don't you check my blood pressure now?"

"No. I want you to come up to my office."

"You brought it with you, so you were planning to check my blood pressure."

"That's true, but I've changed my mind." She raised her knees, wrapping her arms around them, and then looked up at him with a glare.

"Leah, I have no doubt your blood pressure is close to normal down here in the basement. But you don't live in the basement, at least, not anymore. You have to learn to live in the real world, and if your blood pressure is high upstairs, Dr. Gates will prescribe medication to bring it down. If that doesn't work, we may have to operate sooner than you wanted. Now, come on," he said, backing up so she could stand on her own.

She stood and walked quietly to the elevator.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Gonzo Gates straightened after removing a blood pressure cuff from Leah's arm. "It's still too high."

"I'll bet it wasn't high down in the basement," said Leah, smirking. "What are you writing?"

"A prescription."

She glared at Trapper who was sitting behind his desk, looking back over his glasses. "If my blood pressure is high, it's your fault."

Smiling, Trapper asked, "Gonzo, what is it?"

"One thirty-two over eighty-two."

Trapper removed his glasses and leaned forward over his desk, clasping his hands in front of him. "Leah, this may well be because some painful things have come to the surface, but that's not necessarily bad. I'm sure at some point your blood pressure will drop back down to normal, but for the time being you need to take this medicine to avoid the strain on your heart."

Sitting with her legs crossed, her foot started tapping the air as she looked away.

Gonzo sat back on the edge of Trapper's desk and crossed his arms. "Leah, do you want to die? Is that why you're fighting us?"

Her eyes shot up to his, and then moved over to Trapper before she looked down at her hands, remaining silent. When Gonzo handed her the prescription, she shot up out of the chair, wadded the prescription into a tight ball and threw it on Trapper's desk. "Gentlemen, I have two weeks to get my project to a point where Mark can take over for awhile. I agreed to have an echocardiogram every other day. Now, if you two will just leave me alone, I will live up to my end of the agreement." She stormed out of Trapper's office.

Turning to Trapper, Gonzo held his hands out helplessly. "What is it going to take? A rupture?"

Trapper shook his head. "Let her go. She's probably right, you know…her blood pressure could very well be normal in the basement."

"Trapper, she has to come out of the basement. What did you do that had her crying all day yesterday?"

Taking a deep breath, Trapper leaned back in his chair. "She won't see Matthews, so…I spoke to him to get his thoughts, and he suggested that if I could get her to talk about the accident and how she felt, maybe it would start some momentum."

"Well, it seems you did just that. Only, I'm not sure this was the right time to do it."

Both men jumped at the sound of metal trays crashing out in the hall. Looking at each other for an instant before they rushed out of the office, their first thoughts were of Leah.

Leah had stopped and leaned against the wall just outside of Trapper's office. Her blurry vision and a sudden dizziness caused her to close her eyes and wait. This had happened once before and had cleared up on its own, but this time it wasn't going away. In fact, this time, it became harder and harder to catch her breath. Determined to make it to her office without anyone noticing, she pushed herself away from the wall and began walking slowly toward the elevator. Just as she turned the corner toward the nurse's station, she moved her hand to her chest, struggling to breathe, and tried to catch herself on a surgical cart as she collapsed to the floor.

"Move the screen over," were the first words Leah heard. Confused, she lay still with her eyes closed until she could make out the voices. Cold air flowed over her, and what felt like a wet ball was rolling over her chest. When she felt a hand on her breast, her hands flew up to push it away, and before she could do anything else, she was being pushed down.

"Leah, its Dr. Gates and Dr. McIntyre. Open your eyes." Her eyelids fluttered. "Ernie, dim the lights a little, please."

She opened them and closed them quickly, grimacing. "The room is spinning," she whispered. "What happened?"

Passing the wand to Ernie, Gonzo leaned over her. "Leah, this is Dr. Gates. We just did another echo, and we're about to take a look at it, so I need you to lie still for a few minutes."

"Where's McIntyre?"

Leaning over from the other side, Trapper said, "I'm right here, Leah. Nurse Shoop is going to get you cleaned up while Dr. Gates and I take a look at your echo."

"I'm so cold," Leah whispered.

"I'll get you a warm blanket just as soon as I get you cleaned up," said Ernie as she smiled and brushed Leah's hair back from her forehead.

Pointing to a dark spot on the screen, Trapper said, "It seems she's sprung a leak."

"At least it's a slow one," said Gonzo, looking closer at the picture on the screen. "But it's sure to get bigger unless we fix it now."

By the time Ernie had gotten Leah into a hospital gown and covered her with a blanket, Gonzo and Trapper where at her side. "Leah, the reason you were short of breath and dizzy is because your blood pressured dropped too quickly," said Gonzo, leaning over her with his hand resting at the top of her head.

She smiled weakly. "I told you it would come down on its own," she whispered.

Gonzo glanced at Trapper, and then looked back down at her. "Your blood pressure dropped because the weak spot we've been watching has started leaking. We can't wait any longer. We have to go in and repair it."

"When?"

"Today."

"No."

Taking her hand, Gonzo looked at Trapper nervously before he bent closer to see her eyes. "Listen to me. This isn't 'if' anymore. If we don't repair it, you will die."

"Understood," she whispered calmly.

Looking back up at Trapper, Gonzo asked, "You want to try?"

Trapper looked into her eyes and smiled, receiving a smile in return. "Let's get her comfortable in a room and stabilized."

She held his eyes as she searched for his hand, and when she found it, he squeezed. "I need time to think," she whispered.

He whispered back, "I know."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen **

With one hand on the door frame and the other on the door knob, Trapper leaned into Arnold Slocum's office. "Arnold? You got a minute?"

"Trapper, I'm in the middle of something. Can it wait?"

"No, Arnold. It can't."

Motioning to a chair, Arnold put down the report he was reading and waited for Trapper to be seated. "I'm listening."

"It's about Leah Haverty."

"Trapper, I don't have time to hear any more complaints. She's doing what she's being paid to do."

"Well, it is about her work, but it's not a complaint. It's a favor. Dr. Gates has checked Leah into the hospital. She needs surgery to repair an atrial aneurism."

"What?" asked Arnold anxiously.

Trapper smirked. "Why Arnold. I didn't know you cared."

"This could put the project behind."

Cocking his head, Trapper glared for a moment, and then closed his eyes and shook his head. "It will put the project behind. That's why I'm here. I want you to approve the delay. If we don't go in now, she'll die, and if a schedule change isn't approved, she won't have the surgery. She'll work until she drops dead."

"Can't Mark continue without her?"

"Leah says there are things that need to be done before Mark can take over. Mark agrees with her. She's the one who's designing all this from the mechanical engineering to the programming and training. It's her baby."

Leaning back, Arnold studied Trapper. "This isn't one of your little games, is it? She really will die if you don't operate?"

"She will die, Arnold. It's not a game."

"When her company calls, I'll agree to an extension," said Arnold, letting out a long sigh.

"We've already contacted their HR department, but I'm sure someone in their oversight department will want to work on the schedule. We won't know how much of a delay until we go in." Rising to leave, Trapper added as he headed for the door, "I'll let you know as soon as I can."

Trapper walked into Leah's room and stood at the door for a moment, listening.

"The schematics are on my desk, Mark," she said quietly. "The guys have just started pulling the new cable. They can continue unless they have questions, and then they'll just have to wait. I've started the new program designs, so you can get the programmers to start the ones I've finished, but after that they'll have to wait. I have a rough outline of the next few courses of training ready to write, so why don't you take a stab at those? You're familiar enough with the way I write the training to know how that should go. Beyond that, I don't know. But there's enough work there to keep everyone busy for the next couple of weeks. Needless to say, no more overtime for anyone."

Clearing his throat, Trapper stepped to the side of Leah's bed. "That's enough, young lady. You're not supposed to be working." She gave him an annoyed look. "Slocum will approve a delay in the project, and we've already contacted your HR department for your medical coverage."

"That's a little premature, isn't it?" she asked, pushing herself up in the bed.

Trapper put a hand on her shoulder. "Lay still, Leah. We don't want to aggravate your condition. Mark," he said, turning. "I don't mind you asking questions until surgery, and even after she comes out of recovery if she's up to it, but I don't want you to bring her any problems. We need to give her heart time to heal without raising her blood pressure."

Smiling, Mark nodded, and then took Leah's hand and kissed it. "Leah, we'll be fine. Don't worry about a thing."

"Oh, I'm worried. I'm worried you'll take over my job," she said, smiling. She moved her hand on top of his. "Seriously Mark, you've done this with me enough to know what to do. Trust yourself."

"I'll see you after your surgery," he said, turning and leaving the room.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Trapper took her hand. "Any questions?"

"You seem sure I'm going to do this."

"I don't see you have a choice."

"Don't I?" she said, looking away. "Isn't this what I wanted? To die with them?"

Trapper covered the hand he was holding with his other hand. "It's been four years since the accident. Don't you think if you really wanted to die, you'd have found a way by now?"

"You don't know how close I've come," she whispered.

Raising his eyebrows, Trapper said, "Oh, I can imagine. But you haven't gone through with it. Something has always stopped you. I think you owe it to yourself to figure out what that something is." Reaching over to the night table, Trapper grabbed a clipboard. "I need you to sign some consent forms," he said, holding the clipboard in front of her.

"I need more time to think about it."

"This is the form you need to sign so I can get copies of the autopsies. Sign right there," he said, pointing to a line on the form. After she signed, he flipped the top paper over and pointed again. When he presented the third sheet, she looked up at him with an arched eyebrow. "Everything is in triplicate these days," he said, shrugging and looking over the top of his glasses as she signed the third sheet. "I'll be back in a little while. In the meantime, I'm going to ask Nurse Shoop to give you something to help you relax."

"I don't want anything."

"It won't necessarily cloud your mind, and I'd feel better knowing that your thinking isn't going to cause more problems with your heart."

"But you're not my doctor."

He stopped in mid-stride toward the door and turned back around, smiling. "Dr. Gates will sign the order."

Ernie and Gonzo were leaning against the wall just outside Leah's door when Trapper stepped out. "Here are the consent forms, Ernie. Go ahead and prep her. And don't tell her you're prepping her for surgery. You're just giving her something to help her relax."

Taking the forms, Ernie said, "It's your hide," as she walked away.

"You didn't tell her what she was signing?" asked Gonzo.

"I told her what the top form was. She didn't exactly ask about the others." Gonzo looked sideways at him. "Look, just do the surgery. I'll deal with the fallout."

"You're assisting, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't miss it," replied Trapper, walking with Gonzo toward the elevator.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Turning to the anesthesiologist, Gonzo asked, "How's her blood pressure?"

"One ten over sixty. Pulse is sixty-five."

"Good. Let's get started. Scalpel." Ernie carefully placed the scalpel in Gonzo's hand. When he made the incision down the right center of her chest, Trapper asked for the tissue forceps. "I don't want to be the first person she sees when she wakes up. She's going to be fighting mad," said Gonzo. "Retractor."

"You're her doctor," said Trapper, glancing up over his glasses. "Sponge. Besides, she doesn't yell at you."

"I've never heard her yell at you…she snaps. Can you wipe that rib? The retractor is slipping. Good. It's stable now."

Leaning forward, Trapper said, "Let's see what we're up against." He whistled. "The tissue around the aneurism is pretty thin."

"What if we clamp around the edges of the thin tissue and suture underneath it? Then we can resect the bad tissue after it's closed."

"You'll have to be careful not to clamp the thin part. It's liable to tear, and then we'll have a real problem on our hands."

"Just be ready with suction. If it tears, blood's going to come out fast."

Looking up at Gonzo, Trapper said assertively, "You have to be faster."

Gonzo took a deep breath. "Right angle DeBakey. Before I clamp this, Ernie, prepare a number sixteen suture needle."

Holding his hand out for the DeBakey, Trapper said, "I'll clamp. You start suturing as soon as the clamp is in place."

The surgical waiting room was full of men in black suits and ties with white shirts anxious for Leah to come out of surgery. When the automatic doors opened at the end of the hall, their lookout motioned for everyone to follow him.

Gonzo and Trapper stopped for a moment and looked at each other in surprise. "Why does it feel like we might be in trouble with the Feds?" Gonzo asked quietly.

Trapper laughed. "For what? Growing mushrooms in the basement?"

"As hard as she is to get along with, you'd think this hallway would be empty," said Gonzo.

Smiling, Trapper replied, "As I understand it, she has a different rapport with her people in the basement."

Stepping out of the middle of the swarm of men, Mark asked, "How is she?"

Gonzo crossed his arms. "It went well. We fixed the aneurism and gave her heart a good once over. Seems her husband took care of himself. She's got a very healthy heart."

"So this problem wasn't already a problem with the heart?"

"No. I think I can safely say the weak spot was brought on by stress, not only from her job, but also from stress related to the accident," said Gonzo. "She'll be in recovery for awhile, and after that she'll be sedated to give her more time to rest. You can stop by tomorrow to see her….but not all at once. She'll be in CICU for a couple of days."

Ernie stood behind the counter at the nurse's station, waiting for X-ray to answer the phone. When Gonzo and Trapper stopped by, she moved the phone away from her ear and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Trapper, Leah Haverty is awake this morning. She's asking for you."

"Oh no," said Gonzo sternly. "You are not to see her until I check on her. I don't want you causing another aneurism."

"Gonzo, come on. Do you think I'd do anything to make that happen?"

Gonzo tilted his head. "Right now, the sight of you might just do it." He took Leah's chart from Ernie and boarded the elevator. When he arrived in CICU, he checked with the nurse on duty before he went into Leah's room. "Any problems?"

"Well, if you call yelling in a whisper a problem, then yes. She's mad as a hornet. What did you two do to her?" she said, nodding toward the double doors at the entrance to CICU.

Gonzo twisted and seeing Trapper standing just inside the door, he rolled his eyes and walked over. Keeping his voice low, he said, "Trapper, I was serious. I don't want you upsetting her."

Trapper stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a seditious smile on his face. "Sounds to me like she's already upset."

"Just stay here…please." Gonzo walked into Leah's room and met a glare, albeit a sleepy glare. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone cut open my chest without my permission and used my ribs as monkey bars," she said in a raspy whisper.

"Why are you whispering? We didn't operate on your throat."

"Because everything hurts. It hurts to talk, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to move."

"Well, I saw the consent forms, so naturally, I thought you wanted this surgery."

"Don't give me that. Where's McIntyre? He's responsible for this."

"Dr. McIntyre is right here," said Trapper, stepping around the glass wall.

"Trapper, I told you…"

"I know what you told me, Gonzo, but she's already upset. Maybe we should just let her get it out before her heart explodes."

Leah grabbed the plastic cup of water on her over-bed table and threw it, screaming at the pain at the same time she soaked Trapper.

"That was stupid," Gonzo scolded. He jerked down the blanket covering her and pulled down the front of her hospital gown. "You could have torn your sutures," he said, examining her incision. "You're lucky. Now I want you to settle down. And if you don't, I'll keep you sedated." He glanced at Trapper, and then looked back down at her chart. "He's not going anywhere. You can tear into him when you've recovered."

Stepping closer to the bed while wiping water from his face, Trapper countered, "_I_ think that she should get it out now or she won't get any rest. She can hardly move. She can't even yell. And the only reason she's angry is because I acted on the decision she had already made."

"You're wrong," she whispered angrily.

"Am I? It's been four years, Leah. And you signed a consent form for the autopsies. That doesn't sound like you were expecting to die." Trapper leaned over her bed and looked into her tear-filled eyes. "And you would have died if we had waited," he said earnestly. "The tissue around the aneurism was too thin to have lasted much longer."

She sniffled and turned to Gonzo. "Is that true?"

"Mm hm. But the surgery went well, and I expect you to have a full recovery. We've removed the weak tissue, but you need to give the sutures in the wall of your heart and the sutures in your chest time to heal. That means that I want you to rest today. Depending on how you feel, we'll see about letting you sit up on the side of your bed tomorrow. And if that goes well, you can take a few steps the day after that."

"How long until I can work?"

Gonzo took a deep breath. "That depends. Leah, I have no doubt this lesion on your heart was caused by stress. Now whether it started because you haven't addressed your feelings from the accident or from the pressures of your job, I can't tell you. But before you jump back into your normal life, you need to deal with it. I want you to talk to Dr. Matthews."

"No."

"I won't release you to go back to work until I get a positive report from him." As Gonzo turned to leave, he added, "The choice is yours." Stopping at the glass wall, he looked back at Trapper. "You…out. My patient needs her rest."

Trapper brushed her hair back off her forehead. "Call me if you want to talk."

She snarled and looked away.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Trapper didn't visit Leah again while she was in CICU. Even after she was moved to a room on a ward, he stayed away. Until today. When he stepped into her private room, she was sitting in a chair by the window, working.

She looked up from the over-bed table where her work was spread out everywhere…even on the window sill, took a deep breath, and then turned her attention back to her work.

Tucking the file folder he had been holding under his arm, he walked to the window and leaned back on the sill, crossing his arms. "Dr. Gates tells me you're making remarkable progress."

She ignored him and continued her work.

Picking up the papers that were laying on the sill, Trapper asked, "Does he know you're working? As I recall, he wasn't going to release you to go back until you saw Dr. Matthews."

"Well, there's your answer. I'm still here in a hospital room instead of recovering at home."

"Did you really expect to go home this soon?" When he got no answer, he asked with some disbelief in his voice, "You're not still angry with me for arranging your surgery are you?"

Without looking up, she set her pen down very purposefully on the table, leaned back, looked at the door, and then cut her eyes over to his. "You had no right."

"I guess we'll never know how you would have felt if the lesion had completely ruptured, and Gonzo didn't have time to get in to fix it," he said acerbically to her continued glare. "And if you're waiting on an apology, you're not going to get one. Whether you want to admit it or not, you want to live."

Casting her eyes down, she took a deep breath. "What do you want?" she asked quietly.

Satisfied that his argument had the desired effect, he answered in kind, "I thought you might want to talk about the autopsies." She tensed, and when she looked up at him, he saw uncertainty. "I'll tell you right off that I think you'll feel some relief from what I have to tell you, but I want to go over it carefully with you so you completely understand…so doubt doesn't creep back in." Rolling the table away from the chair, he took her hand and helped her up. "Have you walked today?" She shook her head. "Why don't we walk over to my office where we can spend some time going over these?" Draping her arm over his so she could lean on him if necessary, he walked her out the door.

When they passed the nurse's station, he asked Ernie to hold his calls. Once in his office, he motioned for her to be seated on the sofa, and then asked if she wanted a cup of coffee.

She hadn't looked him in the eye since she asked him what he had wanted and still didn't. "Can I have coffee?"

"A cup every now and then isn't going to hurt you. And decaf, if you can stand it, will never hurt you."

"Yes. Thank you."

"How do you take it?"

"Cream, if you have it…and Sweet N'Low."

Trapper twisted to look at her and furrowed his brow. "Sugar it is." Handing her a cup, he set his on the side table and sat down next to her. "I don't want you to read these. They're full of medical jargon, so much of it won't mean anything to you without a medical dictionary." He hesitated. "And…there are things in here you don't need to read…they go into great detail. If I knew more about the accident, I'm sure some of what's in here will make more sense. Can you tell me what you remember?"

After reliving the accident over and over in her dreams for the last four years, it was easy for her to slip back to that day. Trapper watched her, waiting patiently as she stared into her coffee cup, knowing she would speak when she could.

"We were on our way home from a long weekend at our lake house. Are you familiar with Highway 50 between Twin Bridges and the cut-off to Ice House?"

"I've driven it many times."

"So you know how winding that road is…and the river is right down below the road. We were in a passing lane, going by a log truck when something happened to the truck." When she took a sip of her coffee, he noticed her hands shaking, and when she lowered the cup, he put his hand on her arm. "I don't know if he hit the bank or maybe a boulder on the side of the road. We didn't really notice anything until we heard the sound…like metal tearing…and then a loud…it almost sounded like a gun firing." Turning away, she raised a trembling hand to her mouth. Trapper took her coffee cup and set it on the table, then held her other hand. As tears flowed down her face, she continued. "Everything happened so fast. The logs started rolling off the truck onto the car. The first one knocked us into the oncoming lane, and then it seemed the rest of the logs hit us all at once. The car rolled over and the logs took it off the road…it was rolling with them. I remember John yelling to hold on. I don't remember the kids making any sound…none at all." She stopped and wrapped her arms around herself, crying without making a sound. "I don't remember anything else," she said after few minutes. "At some point, John and I were thrown out of the car. I was told I landed behind a large rock, but John landed in the path of the logs. Beth and JJ were in the car when it was pulled out of the river."

Trapper saw so much anguish on her face and torment in her eyes. He understood now why she pushed those memories away. He nodded to Dr. Matthews who had silently opened Trapper's office door and stepped just inside. "Leah, do you want to stop for the moment or do you want to keep going?" Trapper asked.

Taking several slow breaths, she answered unsteadily, "I need to know if John suffered. I need to know if my children knew they were dying."

Looking back at Dr. Matthews, Trapper opened his folder when Matthews nodded to continue. "I can't tell you anything definite about John. Based on the description of the blunt force trauma to his head, I feel sure he would have lost consciousness with the first blow. The coroner didn't know if he was hit first by the car or by a log, and it doesn't really matter. By coming out of the car as it was rolling down the hill, the coroner felt his primary injury would have been almost immediate."

Dr. Matthews poured a glass of water and handed it to Leah. When she took it from him, that fact that he was there didn't seem to faze her. She took a drink, handed the glass to Trapper, and then sank into the sofa as if willing it to swallow her.

"Do you still want to go on?" Trapper asked softly, leaning over her. Her eyes remained fixed on her hands lying in her lap when she nodded. "All right. JJ and Beth each had blunt force trauma to the head. Leah, was Beth sitting behind you? JJ was sitting behind John?

She pulled herself away from the protection of the sofa cushions and turned to Trapper. "Yes."

"Beth's major head injury was to the left side of her head. JJ's was to the right. You said you didn't hear them make a sound. That's because their major injuries occurred at the top of the hill…as the car first went off the road." Tossing the files over to his desk, he turned and took her hands, looking into her eyes. "Leah, their heads bumped together. Do you understand what I'm saying?" She searched his eyes, trying to comprehend. "They had no idea the car rolled down the hill and landed in the river. They were unconscious from the very start of the accident. They didn't have time to know what was happening, and they certainly had no idea they were drowning."

Leah lay over on the arm of the sofa away from Trapper and drew herself into a ball. After four years of denying her pain, she was finally allowing herself to grieve. Dr. Matthews laid his hand on Trapper's shoulder, bringing Trapper to his feet. "I'll go check on some other patients," whispered Trapper. "Stay here as long as you need to."

Dr. Matthews took Trappers place on the sofa while Trapper exited his office.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

When Trapper entered Leah's room, he found her standing at the window, staring out. It seemed she hadn't heard the door open, so he knocked before stepping the rest of the way in.

"Hello Dr. McIntyre," she said almost absentmindedly without looking.

To Trapper's delight, there was no resentment in her voice at all. Yet, it still wasn't quite friendly…more uninterested. "How did you know it was me?" he asked, standing with his hands clasped in front of him.

"You have a unique scent." Trapper cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. "There's a certain scent that every doctor and nurse in this hospital has; a faint antiseptic scent. Except you. I understand why you use lotion on your hands after washing them so much, but you don't use the lotion provided by the hospital. You have your own."

Trapper twisted his mouth and raised his brows, then took a deep breath, remembering why he had come. "Dr. Gates has removed all restrictions on your diet, so I thought you might enjoy a change of scenery for lunch."

She gave him an indifferent look, and turned back to the window. "Mark will be here in a few minutes to go over some work I have for him."

"I thought Dr. Gates asked you to stop."

"He did, but Dr. Matthews said it would be all right. I seem to have convinced him that my work is more therapeutic than stressful. It's something to occupy my mind instead of dwelling on…other things."

"So you're talking to Dr. Matthews now."

"Yes, but you knew that, didn't you? Isn't that my chart tucked under your arm?" Trapper pulled the chart out, but before he could respond, she asked, "Will you be here this evening?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Can I have a rain check? I think I'd like to get off this ward for awhile."

Smiling, he nodded, then took her arm and drew her toward the bed. "Dr. Gates is off today, so he asked me to check your sutures and see how you feel. How _do _you feel? Physically, I mean."

He pointed to the sash of her robe, and she untied it, slipping the robe off her shoulders as she sat on the side of the bed. "Well, I'm tired, but I suspect that's because I'm not getting any exercise. My incision is sore, but it's not completely healed. And my back hurts if I lay in bed too long. My butt hurts if I sit too long, so I stand. Other than the soreness in my chest, standing doesn't seem to bother me."

Reaching around to untie the back of her hospital gown, he pulled it down, and as he examined her incision, he asked, "Any shortness of breath?"

"No."

He placed his stethoscope on her back. "Take a deep breath for me. And another. Any dizziness or nausea?"

"No."

Moving the stethoscope to the front, he listened to her heart. "I don't hear anything I shouldn't," he said, smiling and dropping the scope into his coat pocket. Going back to her incision, he touched the edges. "Is that still sore?"

"A little."

"Do you think you can handle an echocardiogram? We'll have to cover the incision so the gel won't get into it. We'll have to press pretty hard to get an image."

"If I tell you to stop, will you?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay. I'll try." Stepping back, Trapper picked her chart up from the bedside table, and while he was writing, she asked, "When you look at me…like this…what do you see?"

He stopped writing and looked up over his glasses. "What do you mean?"

"Do you see a patient…a woman…or just someone you feel sorry for?"

He studied her for a moment and slightly creased his brow. She still wore a somewhat apathetic expression, so he was unsure what she was looking for. "Leah, I don't feel sorry for you. I'm certainly empathetic for you in your situation, but I don't pity you. You're only thirty-eight. You still have a lot of good years ahead of you, whether you choose to believe it or not."

"What about these?" she said, pointing to her scars. "As I understand it from listening to the nurses talk, you're a…an active man. Would this," she said, looking down at the two long scars on her chest, "…be offensive to…men?"

He hadn't realized he had tensed until he relaxed and turned up one side of his mouth in a half smile. "I suppose that would depend on the man. Personally, no. I prefer a woman with substance. The wrapping is just a bonus. And after seeing your insides…on several levels…as well as your outsides, I would say, kiddo, that you have a lot of substance." She hung her head and sighed deeply. Taking her hands, he continued warmly, "Leah, you're a beautiful woman. Those scars won't matter to someone worthy of you. But if it bothers you this much, you can have those scars almost completely eliminated."

"Are you finished?" His lower jaw slightly dropped. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Are you finished with this?" she asked, indicating her chest. He nodded, and she pulled the hospital gown back up. "I don't know that I want to be on an operating table again. At least for awhile," she said as she reached back to tie the back of her gown. "Do you think I could wear my own PJs now? I have tops and bottoms, and the top unbuttons in the front so you and Dr. Gates can have easy access."

"Do you have someone who can bring them?"

"They're already here. Ernie purchased a new set for me."

Trapper leaned forward slightly. "Ernie? Not Nurse Shoop?"

A knock on the door interrupted what might have been an enlightening conversation. "Come in," she said.

"Leah, do you still feel like doing this?" asked Mark. "Hello, Dr. McIntyre," he said, extending his hand.

"Mark. How are things in the basement?"

"Actually, John, since Leah's been able to do some work up here, we're staying busy down there. We even got the order for the new equipment in on time."

Turning to Leah, Trapper asked, "Are you getting paid?"

She looked up at the ceiling and puckered her lips. "Well, yes and no. Dr. Gates hasn't released me, so I'm not…officially…working, _but _I am getting paid…sort of. I'm on disability, and since the company is self-insured, they are paying me…technically."

Laughing, Trapper headed for the door. "I'll see you two later. I've got work to do elsewhere."

After two hours of answering questions and shuffling text, flow charts and schematics, Leah, who had been sitting on the side of her bed, reclined. Mark stood up from the only chair in the room and gathered all the papers into two neat stacks. "You're tired. I'm leaving."

"Mark," she said, holding her hand out to him. He took it and stood by the bed. "Thank you for all this. You didn't have to do any of it."

"You've always been like a big sister. I'll do anything for my sisters. Just ask them."

"Well, I guess it is the job of the big sister to torture the little brother, isn't it?"

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Yes, and as usual, you're doing a fine job." She laughed loudly. "It's good to hear that again," he said, smiling. "Now, get some rest. I'll go back downstairs and share the wealth. I left the stuff you're still working on over on the table."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Antonio, I need a favor."

"Anything for you, Dr. McIntyre. Just name it."

Gonzo stuck his head in the door, and Trapper waved him in.

"I need dinner delivered to the hospital. Can you do that?"

Gonzo smiled and waved goodbye.

"Hold on just a minute, Antonio." Moving the telephone receiver away from his ear, Trapper asked, "Why are you here? You're supposed to be off."

"I'm not here. I just wanted to see if you were interested in coming over to the Titanic for a glass of wine before you left. But I see you're already making plans. If you have some time later on, come on by."

Nodding, Trapper said, "I'll do that. Antonio, sorry about that. I'd like two of your Salmon Milano dinners, iced tea, and two pieces of your Tiramisu for dessert. And if you'll deliver those on your restaurant dishes, I promise to bring them back. Oh, and flowers for the table…and a candle."

"Where and when?"

"Outside the cafeteria…say about seven?"

"Is this for a new one or an existing one?"

Trapper smiled. "You've never met her. She's a patient."

Trapper opened the door to a darkened room. He listened for a moment, and when he heard a sniffle, he continued to the side of the bed. "Leah," he said softly.

She was facing away from him, and pulling a tissue from the box on the side table she quickly wiped her eyes and nose, and turned over. "Hi," she said quietly, offering an apologetic smile.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Trapper took her hand. "What's this all about?"

"I had another visit from Dr. Matthews. He has a way of doing this to me."

"I see. Is it getting any easier?"

"No, not really. He wants me to take something for depression."

"But you don't want to."

"I was on medication for depression after my transplant. Though it did have a calming effect some of the time, I knew it was fake. One minute I was laughing, and the next I was crying. I didn't feel like it was helping, so I don't see how it will help now."

"Well, maybe getting out of this room will help. Did you forget about dinner?"

"No," she said, blushing. "I was trying to figure out how to let you down easy."

"You can't. I ordered in, and as far as I know, we have the outside of the cafeteria all to ourselves. Why don't you put on your new pajamas and grab your robe? Your dinner awaits."

Trapper had removed his white hospital coat and replaced it with his sport jacket before he left his office for Leah's room. Now he, in his street clothes and Leah in her new black satin pajamas and matching robe walked through the main cafeteria and out the doors to the patio where Antonio was patiently waiting to serve them.

After Trapper seated her and took the chair across the table, Antonio began serving, identifying each dish as he placed it on the linen tablecloth. "We have Salmon Milano seared to perfection in dill butter accompanied by our own asparagus risotto, fresh rosemary-olive oil yeast bread, a carafe of our house Zinfandel, and for dessert Tiramisu. I also have a carafe of iced tea, if you prefer." He lit a candle in the middle of a shallow bowl of flowers, bowed, and bid them a good evening, disappearing into the night.

Leah looked at the table with her mouth open in pleasant surprise. "How did you manage this? This looks…delicious." She looked up at him with a wide grin.

"I've only seen you eat soup, salad and hospital food. There's more to life than that," he answered, matching her grin.

As the two began eating their dinner, Leah asked, "How much longer do I have to stay in the hospital?"

"That's entirely up to Dr. Gates."

"Oh, come on. You're as familiar with my condition as Dr. Gates. How long do you think? I promise I won't hold Dr. Gates to your answer."

"Well, I think that depends on what progress Dr. Matthews feels you're making. Once we do another echocardiogram, if everything looks alright, I see no physical reason why you can't finish recuperating at home. But Dr. Matthews may not want you alone just yet." She frowned, and her shoulders slumped. "Leah, you just had major heart surgery on a heart you weren't born with. My advice is not to rush this."

She set her fork down on her plate. "I'm afraid I've never been good at being cooped up." Trapper gave her an incredulous look. "I know, I know. I work in a basement. But my mind is occupied there, and I don't notice the…confining walls and ceiling. I don't have much to do in my room, but…think." She became quiet. "I don't want to think…all the time."

"I'll see if I can arrange some time off for good behavior," said Trapper, smiling.

"Can I have another glass of wine? It's very good."

"Are you taking any pain meds?"

"I get one at night…so I can sleep."

"Then no," he said, reaching for the carafe of tea and pouring a glass.

"What does time off mean?"

"It means a furlough…maybe…from the hospital. I can't make any promises until I speak to your doctor."

Turning up one side of her mouth, she tried not to smile. She looked down at her plate, and pushed her food around. "Dr. McIntyre?"

"I wish you'd call me Trapper. After all, we will be working together once you're all healed up. And I think Dr. Matthews might even give you bonus points."

"About Dr. Matthews…"

Trapper looked up from his dinner. "What about him?"

"I don't want to talk to him anymore."

Setting his fork down, he wiped his mouth on his napkin. "Why not?" he asked calmly.

Without looking him in the eye, she explained, "We talk about what he wants to talk about; not what I need to talk about. The man has his own agenda, and I mean a physical agenda when I walk in his office. He started with my childhood, looking for problems there to explain problems now." Looking into Trapper eyes, she continued, "I had a wonderful childhood. I had a wonderful life with John and the children, and the only issue I have now is that…" She leaned back in her chair. "They're gone and I…I don't know how to go on from here."

"I'll talk to Gonzo. We do have a psychiatrist on staff that might suit you better."

"Who?"

"His name is David Sandler. He's a little unconventional, but he knows his stuff. And he'll be better able to keep up with your medical issues since he's a medical doctor. Now, I brought you down here to help you forget you're in a hospital for awhile."

Smiling, she said, "I'm sorry. You sidetracked me when you brought up Dr. Matthews. I was going to thank you for dinner."

Trapper smiled at her smile. She had quite a lovely smile. "You're welcome." After a few minutes of silence, Trapper asked. "So tell me how you met Mark."

"Mark?" she said with raised eyebrows. "Well, we met in college. And for most of my career, he's been able to hire on at the same companies. Then when I could hire my own people, I hired him. We've been doing the same type of work together for a long time now…fourteen years. It's not always a hospital application, but the basic framework is the same."

"You know he has feelings for you, don't you?"

She froze in mid-chew for a moment before she finished chewing. "Well, we've always been good friends. He's like a brother. In fact, we just had a big sister-kid brother discussion earlier this afternoon." She took a sip of tea. "Besides, he's younger than me."

"Can't be by much," said Trapper, watching her as he swirled his wine and took a sip.

"Three years."

Leaning forward, Trapper looked sideways at her. "Who made the rule that said the man had to be older than the woman in a relationship? Seems to me it shouldn't matter. After all, you were thirteen years younger than John."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Okay, I'll bite. I don't feel that way about Mark. And if I find that he feels that way about me, I'm just going to have to set him straight. I hope, for both our sakes, that you're wrong. It would make working with him…awkward."

"I can understand why you might not feel that way now. After all, in a lot of ways, you've still been married for the last four years. But there will come a time, Leah, when you're going to start thinking that way about someone. And it may well be Mark." Trapper put their dinner plates to the side and sat a plate of Tiramisu in front of her.

"Thank you. I haven't had Tiramisu in a very long time," she said, smiling.

"You're already very comfortable with him. That's how it starts."

"Well, I'm getting comfortable with you. Is that supposed to mean something?" she asked with a dismissive smirk. She didn't see the slight rise of Trapper's chin, the barely visible narrowing of his eyes or his imperceptible smile.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

As Trapper and Leah started their dessert, sirens, racing engines and squealing tires preceded a barrage of flashing lights as ambulance after ambulance flew through the back entrance of the hospital parking lot into emergency. This all coincided with Trapper's pager going off.

"Leah, I'm sorry," said Trapper, rising from his chair. "I..." He didn't have time to further apologize.

"Hurry," she said. "I'll take the dishes to your office."

As he ran through the cafeteria door, he yelled back over his shoulder, "Do not carry them! Get a cart!" And with that, he was gone.

Following him into the cafeteria, she looked around for a cart. The main part of the cafeteria had been closed for some time, but the snack area was always open, and whoever had stocked the vending machines had left a stainless steel cart in a corner near the machines. She rolled the cart outside, took one more look at the flower arrangement, and smiled before she blew out the candle and loaded everything onto the cart.

On the elevator and walking down the halls, she looked carefully down halls to her right and left as she passed, and occasionally, she'd glance behind her. The hospital seemed eerily empty on this floor. Backing through Trapper's office door, she left the dirty dishes on his former secretary's desk and took Trapper's Tiramisu and the wine carafe into his office, placing them in his mini-refrigerator. Searching through his lap drawer, she found a piece of paper and sat down in his chair to write a note.

_I hope you enjoy dessert as much as I did. It's in the fridge. Thank you for a much needed break and a lovely dinner. Leah._

She took her dessert and ate it as she slowly made her way to her room, and though she thought she'd relax and watch the television, her curiosity got the best of her.

When Trapper arrived in emergency, gurneys were already starting to line the walls. Trapper held his breath when he looked from one to another. "Are they all children?"

"Bus accident," said Stanley. "They were on their way home from a church youth basketball game."

"Where do you need me?"

"Triage until we find someone who needs your skills. Minor injuries are on the right. Moderate injuries are on the left. Major injuries go straight to exam rooms or surgery."

Moving closer to the entrance, Trapper began looking at children coming in on gurneys or walking, directing them to the right or left. "Stanley, where are the parents?"

As Stanley knelt to examine a child who had walked in, he answered, "The chaperones are on their way. We'll let them use the phones to call the rest of the parents. There are some uninjured kids here. They brought in everyone who was on the bus because there wasn't much left of the bus."

"Do we have someone who can take care of the uninjured kids? They're just wandering around."

Leah had just stepped around the corner, and quickly backed up behind the counter, watching as child after child came in. She stopped Gloria as she ran by with her hands full of pillows and blankets. "Gloria, I'll take the uninjured children to the waiting room."

Gloria hesitated before she ran on, offering a smile and a nod.

Trapper stopped his triage when a man carrying a child in his arms came through the door. "Doc, I don't think he's breathing."

"Gloria, get me an exam room, stat!" ordered Trapper. Taking the boy in his arms, he hurried down the hall. "Where did you find him?" he asked the man who had brought the child in and was following. Laying the child on the bed, Trapper listened to the boy's chest with a stethoscope.

"The bus rolled several times. He was on the bottom of the pile," answered the man.

"He's breathing, but it's shallow. Start him on oxygen." Gloria stepped around Trapper, pulling a mask forward from the oxygen feed on the wall and placing it over the child's nose and mouth. Feeling the boy's chest, Trapper stopped and raised his shirt. Bruises cover his chest and abdomen. Next, Trapper pressed around his stomach. "He's got some internal bleeding. Maybe broken ribs and pneumothorax. Gloria, if he starts gurgling, get him intubated and page me. We'll have to put in a chest tube until we can get him into the OR. Start an IV and plasma and get a CT scan of his chest and abdomen. Then type and match him for surgery. And call Ernie. Tell her I need her." Turning back to the man, he asked, "Are you his father?"

"No, his father is out of town. He was staying with one of the other parents."

"What about his mother?"

"She's dead. All he has is his father."

"Okay, let's find the parent he was staying with. He should have a contact number for the father." Picking up the wall phone in the exam room, Trapper dialed, and as he waited, he asked, "What's the boy's name and age?"

"Marcus…Marcus Jones. He's nine."

"Arnold. Arnold, wake up. I need you to start on a court order. I have a nine year old by the name of Marcus Jones who needs immediate surgery. No, we haven't found his parent yet. He's out of town. Internal bleeding, collapsed lung. Thanks, Arnold."

Walking back out to the main hall, Trapper found Stanley. "Do you have any more for me, Stanley?"

"No. I've referred two to neurology with head trauma. The rest have broken bones, cuts and bruises. Are you going to have to operate?"

"Yeah, the kid's bleeding internally. I need to find out who he was staying with."

"The parents who were following the bus just arrived. Some of them are trying to contact the other parents."

"Ask around Stanley. See if you can find out who Marcus Jones was staying with. I'll go check the waiting room." Trotting around the corner and down the hall, Trapper stepped into the waiting room and was swarmed by nervous parents. Holding up his hands, he said, "As soon as we know anything about your child, someone will come get you. Were any of you babysitting Marcus Jones?"

"Yes," said a man, raising his hand. "He was staying with me."

"And your name is?" asked Trapper.

"Alan Jaeger."

"Mr. Jaeger, I'm Dr. McIntyre," said Trapper, putting his hand on the man's shoulder and guiding him out of the waiting room. "Marcus has some internal bleeding and needs surgery. We need to contact his father for consent. Do you know how to get in touch with him?"

"Yes, I have a number, but he might not be there. He's at a convention."

"If you'll come with me, I'd like you to try to reach him from the nurse's station." As the two men walked down the hall, Jaeger asked about his own son. Trapper asked, "What's his first name?"

"It's Alan. He's a junior."

At the nurse's station, Trapper moved Mr. Jaeger behind the counter and sat him in front of the phone. "Mr. Jaeger, this is Donna, one of our emergency room nurses. Donna, Mr. Jaeger needs to keep trying to call a parent. We need consent for surgery for Marcus Jones. And see if you can find his son, Alan." He barely waited for her to nod. Having spotted Gonzo in the hall, he hurried to him and told him to scrub for surgery.

Leah had gathered several of the uninjured children and those who had been treated for minor injuries around her. She could only find seven. Guiding them down the hall toward the waiting room, she stopped at the entrance. The room was full of adults waiting to hear any news about their own children.

"Hey guys," she said, turning back to the children. "Do any of you see your parents here?" All of them shook their heads. "Okay. There's no room for us here, so why don't we go up to my room and watch some television? I'm sure we can find something." As she passed the nurse's station, she found Gloria on the phone. "Are you on hold?"

With frustration on her face, Gloria grumbled, "Yes."

"I'm going to take these children up to my room to watch TV. There's no room in the waiting room. I just wanted someone to know where they are."

Just as Gloria opened her mouth to answer, someone spoke on the other end of the phone. She nodded at Leah, and turned away. Before she left, Leah reached over the counter for paper and pen, making a list of everyone's name. She waited for a break in Gloria's conversation before she passed the paper to her. "These are the children who are with me." Gloria stuffed the paper in her pocket and watched Leah lead the children away from the chaos.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

As Trapper stood next to Gonzo, scrubbing his arms, Ernie walked into the room, wearing her scrubs. "I hope this is as urgent as Gloria led me to believe. I had to leave my book, my hot tea, and my robe and slippers sitting next to my comfortable chair."

"Nine-year-old with internal bleeding and a possible collapsed lung," stated Trapper with a serious look.

His look didn't surprise her. Though he routinely joked when he worked on adults, he never let his guard down when the life of a child was in his hands. Standing in front of the sink, soaping up, Ernie sighed. "I was afraid of that. I came in through emergency. The halls are still lined with children."

Trapper held his arms up in front of him. "I need to know if we have consent," he said to another nurse. "If we don't, call Slocum. I'll need that court order." Pushing through the operating room door backward, he went straight to the light box to see the CT scans.

Gonzo went in after him, and stood just behind his right shoulder. "This isn't good," said Gonzo.

"This isn't good at all." Pointing to one of the films, Trapper said, "That's a rib in there. He may lose that lung. And look at all this. You can't even see there's so much blood." He turned to the anesthesiologist. "You should order extra blood. The kid's gonna need it."

The anesthesiologist looked at the films and nodded. "I'll order more now."

"After that, go ahead and start a unit. It's not coming out, but it's not going anywhere good either. Then start the anesthesia. Once you have him stable, we're going to start, court order or not."

"Okay, everyone get comfortable. Two of you drag that chair over here and share. The rest of you climb up on the bed." Leah wasn't surprised at how quiet the children were after seeing their friends tossed around like rag dolls. She picked up the TV controller and turned on the television. "Hey, we're in luck. Disney is on. _The Kids Who Knew Too Much..._how does that sound?" Still, she got no response. "All right, you guys stay here and be real quiet because there are other patients on this floor."

"Aren't you a patient?"

"Well, yes, I am. But I'm always in trouble, so no one will be surprised by me. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere, and don't touch any of the gadgets." Leah went into the room behind the nurse's desk where the ice machine and refrigerator were. She found apple and orange juice and jello. Taking a tray from the counter, she loaded it up with juice, jello, spoons and napkins and headed back to her room.

Dr. Sandler just happened to be in the hall when she came out. "Midnight raid?"

"Uh, something like that. Only, it's not midnight yet."

"Do you happen to know where everyone is?" asked David.

"Are you a doctor? I'm surprised you haven't heard. There was a bus accident. Emergency is full of children."

"I'm Dr. Sandler. I'm a psychiatrist. I'd just be in the way in emergency."

Leah recognized the name, but didn't show it. "I'm Leah Haverty."

"The Mushroom Queen?" Wincing, he added, "Oh, sorry."

She chuckled. "Not at the moment. I'm a den mother disguised as a patient." She smiled when he furrowed his brow. "Come with me."

When they arrived at the room, Leah handed the juice and jello out to the kids, who were already engrossed in the television program. David leaned against the door frame and watched until she came back and offered him a cup of jello. "Would you like to join us?"

"Are these kids from the bus accident?"

"Yes. There wasn't any room in the waiting room, so I brought them up here. They were just wandering around down there."

Drawing a child out of the bed, Leah crawled in, and patted the bed for the child to get back in. She sat back and put her arms around the two children on each side of her. "You're…ah…Nicole, right?" she whispered to the child on her right.

"Nicki."

Turning to the child on her left, she whispered again, "What's your name?"

"I'm Angela."

"I'm Miss Leah. Do you like the jello?" Both girls nodded their heads and settled in next to her while David pulled two boys out of the chair, and then scooped them up on his lap, leaning back and getting comfortable with his jello.

Trapper had gathered his surgical team around the table, and just as the anesthesiologist announced that Marcus was stable, a voice came over the speaker from the viewing room. "Dr. McIntyre. We have the court order."

"Good. Let's get started. Gonzo, get a chest tube in. I'm sure there's already pneumothorax. While you're doing that, I'm going to try to get the blood out of the way down here so we can see where it's coming from."

Both men worked quietly, each being assisted by a separate nurse. "Ernie, let's get more suction in here," said Trapper. "Gonzo, how are you doing?"

"Almost there."

"Here's a bleeder. Clamp. Okay, that's not the only one."

"Trap, chest tube's in."

"Come help me find where this blood is coming from. Spleen's gotta go."

"Did you happen to notice this kidney?" asked Gonzo.

"Yeah, I did. Can you save it?"

"Maybe. It's about to burst. It could be a crushed ureter causing a back up. Get me a separate suction tube and the Metzenbaums. Let's see if we can get some of this fluid out."

"Here's our major bleeder," said Trapper. "The artery's been nicked. Ernie, give me another clamp and a number ten needle. Let's see if this stops the bleeding. Once we get out of here, we still have to deal with that rib up against his lung if he's still stable."

"Most of the children in Leah's room had already dozed off when an announcement came over the television. _We interrupt our regular programming for an important announcement. As a result of a bus accident earlier this evening, parents from the Old First Presbyterian Church with children attending the youth basketball game at the YMCA are asked to contact admittance at San Francisco Memorial Hospital immediately._

As Leah and Dr. Sandler sat quietly, listening to the announcer repeat the message, Gloria entered the room. "Trevor Hall?"

One of the boys on David's lap stirred and opened his eyes. "Are you Trevor," he asked. Helping him up off the chair, David sent him toward Gloria.

"Trevor, your parents are here. Would you come with me?" The boy wiped his eyes with a fist, and took Gloria's hand.

Leah shifted in the bed. "Gloria, I don't understand. Where are all the parents?"

"We just found out they've been waiting at the church for the bus to arrive. They've started coming in now, so it shouldn't be too much longer. You look a little pale. Are you alright?"

"I'm tired, but what am I gonna do? I'm already in bed," said Leah with a weak smile.

"Nurse Brancusi, how is it in emergency?" asked Dr. Sandler.

"We still have about fifteen children down there, but they've all been taken care of."

"Maybe we should take these down so Ms. Haverty can rest," he suggested.

Leah waved her hand. "No, it's alright. They're asleep. There's no point in waking them until their parents arrive."

As Gloria turned to leave, she looked back at Leah. "All right," she said hesitantly. "But I'm sending someone up to check on you."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Removing his gown, Trapper leaned back against a wall in the OR and closed his eyes. Gonzo sat on the anesthesiologist's stool and bent over with his head in his hands. "How long?"

Glancing at the clock, Trapper said, "Four hours, not counting setting his fingers and leg."

"What do you think his chances are?"

"He's lucky. He has an extra kidney and lung if the others fail. We'll have to keep a close watch on him. That lung could collapse again. How'd the kidney look after you aspirated it?"

"The color wasn't good. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Come on," said Trapper, pushing himself away from the wall. "Let's see if anyone's waiting for him."

The two doctors dragged their feet leaving the OR, and when they came to the surgical waiting room, Jaeger lay back in his chair with his son curled up in the chair beside him. Leaning over him, Trapper touched his shoulder. "Mr. Jaeger."

With sleepy eyes, Jaeger got to his feet. "How is Marcus?"

"He had a lot of internal damage, but we managed to get it all fixed. Now, whether the injured organs respond remains to be seen. We'll be watching him closely. Were you able to get in touch with his father?"

"Yes, and he faxed a consent form in to your administrative offices. I take it you got it. He's flying in. He'll be here tomorrow." Looking at his watch, he corrected himself. "Rather, today."

"We didn't wait on the consent," said Dr. Gates.

Jaeger looked shocked. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Relax," said Trapper, smiling. "We got a court order."

"You can do that?"

"When a condition is life threatening, yes. Marcus wouldn't have survived if we'd waited any longer," explained Trapper. "He'll be in recovery for awhile, and after that, we'll keep him sedated so he doesn't move around. Why don't you and your son go home and get some rest."

Jaeger offered his hand. "Thank you, Dr. McIntyre…Dr. Gates."

As the two surgeons headed for the locker room, Ernie called from down the hall. "Gonzo!" They stopped and turned. "Gonzo, I'm glad I caught you. I was just about to go home and get some sleep. Gloria asked me to ask you to look in on Leah Haverty. It seems she's the one who corralled all the children who were alright. She kept them in her room all night watching television until their parents arrived. David Sandler tried to get her to take something to help her rest, but she refused."

"Sandler? What was he doing here?" asked Trapper.

"He was on his way out when he intercepted Leah on her way to her room with a tray full of juice and jello."

"She raided the fridge?" asked Gonzo, laughing.

Ernie smiled. "It seems so. Those children were well cared for. But Leah's day was probably much too much for her. She spent several hours working with Mark, and then had a session with Dr. Matthews." She looked sideways at Trapper. "And as I understand it, she had dinner outside the cafeteria…catered from Antonio's Restaurant with a certain Chief of Surgery."

Gonzo moved his eyes over to Trapper, raising his brows, prompting Trapper to raise his hands. "She's been cooped up in this hospital for weeks now. Besides, Matthews wanted to treat her for depression, and she refused the medication, so I thought I'd get her away from her room for awhile."

Turning to Ernie, Gonzo said, "I'll go see her as soon as I get cleaned up. Go on home and get some rest."

Trapper leaned in to kiss Ernie's cheek. "As usual, my dear, you were wonderful last night."

A smug smile appeared on Ernie's face as she turned to leave. "I made some coffee for you. I'll see you two tomorrow."

Once showered, Gonzo and Trapper stood across from each other, dressing. "So Trapper. Catered dinner from Antonio's?"

"What about it?"

"Don't you usually take your dates to Antonio's?"

"If you're implying that it was a date, you're way off." Shrugging, he added, "I was just trying to help her forget where she is for awhile."

"Mm hm."

Trapper entered Leah's room behind Gonzo, who was pointing at the chair. "What's he doing here?"

"Ernie said he intercepted Leah in the hall," answered Trapper. "I guess he stayed." Trapper shook his shoulder. "David, wake up."

"Uh…oh, Trapper."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Leah had all those children in here. I thought I'd give her a hand."

Gonzo stood at the end of the bed, looking at Leah's chart. "The children have been gone for awhile. And you're still here."

"I wanted to make sure you heard her sleeping," he said, standing and reaching for his jacket. "She wheezes every now and then."

Taking David by the arm, Trapper pulled him over to the bed. "Gonzo, I wanted to talk to you about Matthews anyway. Leah doesn't want to see him. Based on what she said, I don't think he's right for her."

"Well, this is convenient," said Gonzo, smiling. "I suppose you were going to suggest Dr. Sandler." Arching an eyebrow, Trapper gave a short nod. "How do you feel about that, David?"

"Why's she seeing Eric?"

"Come by my office, and we'll fill you in," answered Trapper.

Trapper reached over and felt Leah's forehead, causing her to stir. "She's a little warm."

Leah opened her eyes and closed them again, moving her arm up to cover them. "It's this room, isn't it? It draws people in by class. First, it was a day care full of children. Now it's a medical convention…or golf. It could be a golf outing."

Moving to the side of the bed, Gonzo pulled his stethoscope out of his jacket pocket. "Roll over on your side. I want to listen."

"Why?" she asked, complying.

"Because I'm your doctor, and this is what doctors do," he replied, chuckling. "Mm hm." He moved the stethoscope and listened again. "Mm hm." Looking back at the chart, he said, "Temperature is a little elevated. I'm going to order a chest x-ray."

"What is it?" she said anxiously.

"Maybe nothing. It could be a mild infection, and if it is, I'll prescribe antibiotics to take care of it. On the other hand, it could be that you did too much yesterday." She smirked. "A room full of children?" said Gonzo admonishingly. "A few weeks after heart surgery?"

She turned her head away, and seeing Trapper's raised brows, she growled. "They were very good children. Ask Dr. Sandler."

"It's true. They all sat quietly, ate their jello and watched TV."

Placing his hand above her head, Trapper leaned over her. "That may be true, but before you became a nursemaid to a bunch of nine-year-olds, you took dinner dishes to my office, walked back down to emergency, wandered around collecting lost souls, and then walked them back up here after which you brought a tray full of juice and jello in when you're not supposed to be lifting anything."

She looked into his eyes stubbornly. "It's all your fault again," she said with a slight smile meant only for him to see. "You should never have invited me to dinner. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have ventured out of my room."

Trapper caught the smile and returned it. "Guilty. In the future, I shall endeavor to leave you bored and depressed in your room." Before he straightened, he mouthed, "You're welcome."

"David, help yourself to some coffee and make yourself comfortable," said Trapper, pouring himself a cup.

Gonzo held the pot out toward him, but David shook his head. "I don't want to trade one vice for another."

"Vice?" said Gonzo. "Coffee is not a vice."

Dr. Sandler poured a glass of water and went to the sofa. "Are you drinking it because you're thirsty, or because it makes you feel comfortable?" asked David.

Looking over at Trapper with a dismayed expression, Gonzo answered, "Nevermind."

Trapper pulled out a drawer and leaned back, propping his leg up. "David, now that you've met Leah Haverty, what do you think?"

David gave Trapper a blank look, remaining silent for a moment. "Think? Well, she doesn't seem as hunnish as everyone says." Trapper glowered. "Oh, you're not talking about that. Well…she seemed normal…grounded. She had seven children in her room, and she was calm and easy-going."

"She's only that way around children, David. Here, look at her file." Gonzo passed her file over.

As David read it, his face went through a wide range of changes. First, his eyes widened. Then his mouth opened, and he ended with a cringe and a shudder. "Heart transplant. She's been through some physical as well as mental trauma. It's been what…" He looked back at the file. "…four years. She seems pretty well-adjusted."

"She's not well-adjusted…not yet anyway," said Trapper. "She needs help getting there."

"It's been four years. People usually adjust as much as they're going to in that amount of time."

"The problem is she's never tried to deal with it. She buried herself in her work, she isolated herself from everyone who knew her, and she intentionally alienates herself from everyone else so she doesn't have to deal with closeness and loss."

"That doesn't sound like the woman I met last night."

"David, she almost didn't have surgery to repair her heart because she wasn't sure she wanted to live. Does that sound well-adjusted to you?"

Gonzo stepped in. "The truth is she's somewhere in the middle. She started dealing with it with Matthews, but something about him…well…she stopped making progress."

"That's understandable. Eric works from a standard set of rules and assumptions. It doesn't always work, especially with people who are particularly strong-minded."

"Oh, she's that," said Trapper. "I'd say more like bullheaded."

"I'll talk to her tomorrow. I think she'll probably sleep all day today. She looked tired."

"There's one more thing you need to know, if you haven't already read it," said Gonzo, sitting next to him. He moved some pages over and pointed to a specific paragraph. "Read that."

"Oh…well, that could make you crazy." Gonzo and Trapper both glared at him. "I don't mean she's crazy. I just mean that getting her husband's heart would be hard to deal with. There would be all kinds of…guilt. Of all her injuries...let's see…collapsed lung, broken…wow…broken bones. In her face? Ribs, hip, arm, collar bone. She lost a kidney? It's a wonder she's alive. No wonder she hasn't dealt with the emotional part. She spent most of the time recovering from all this." He rose to leave. "Can I borrow this? I'd like to go over it more thoroughly."

"Sure," said Trapper.

"Oh, and Trapper. I need to talk to you, too," said David as he chewed on the end of a pencil.

Trapper shot up from his stretched-out position. "Me? Why me?"

"I heard the nurses talking about your catered dinner with her. It seems to me she's stopped trying to alienate you. It could be unfortunate for both of you if she's subconsciously or even consciously trying to replace a broken emotional link to the feelings she still has for her husband."

Trapper cocked his head. "Why would that be unfortunate?"

"Because it could never be the same. She'd keep comparing you to her husband, and you'd never be able to live up to him. Not that you're not…" David nervously bit into his celery stick. "I mean you would never be able to live up to what her husband meant to her. No one could…except her husband."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Standing at the window in her room, Leah turned around at the sound of a knock at her open door. "Dr. Sandler, please come in." He stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Uh oh. Is this a session?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, besides you closing the door, you have a file about an inch thick in your hands. Looks like mine," she answered, smiling. "Actually, Dr. McIntyre told me he would talk to you about taking over my..."

When she didn't finish, David asked, "Your what? I mean, what would you call it?"

"You know, despite what everyone says, I do think about my husband…and my children…everyday."

"Let me guess…when the day is done, you're not working, you've taken care of all the personal things you needed to, all the dirty dishes from dinner have been washed, and you're going to bed…and there's nothing else to occupy your mind. And you don't sleep very well."

She said nothing, folding her lips into a tight line and turning back to the window.

"Would it help to know that's normal? Would it make a difference if I told you that four or eight or twelve years from now, you'll occasionally lapse back into it?"

"Are you saying I shouldn't think about them?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Not at all. But I am saying it shouldn't be jeopardizing your health. And trying to recover from heart surgery without good sleep…you'll end up in the hospital."

She laughed softly.

"Leah, you're an intelligent woman, and I really don't have to tell you this. Well, maybe a reminder. You can't fix it. John and JJ and Beth died four years ago. And you can't fix it. It's not your fault, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I can help you deal with the loss, but we're not going to talk about guilt right now because there's no reason for you to feel guilty." He pulled the over-bed table around, setting the file he was holding down, and taking a prescription pad out of his jacket pocket. "This is a prescription for something to help you doze off. It won't put you to sleep. It will just make you drowsy so you can fall asleep. I want you to take one half an hour before you go to bed...not right before you go to bed, not with your dinner…half an hour before."

"That's not going to do me any good here," she said without turning to face him.

"I have it on good authority you're going home if your echocardiogram goes well today."

This time she spun around. "You're letting me go home?"

"Why wouldn't I?" David asked with a completely mystified look. "Are you suicidal?"

"No," she answered sheepishly.

"I didn't think so. Do you have a way to get back to the hospital? I don't know if Gonzo wants you to drive yet."

"I can take a cab."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow at one in my office."

Nodding, Leah watched him leave her room, wondering if his seemingly intermittent scattered thinking was act or personality. Either way, it was quite disarming.

Trapper and Gonzo walked down the hall together discussing their common patients. "Trapper, I have Leah scheduled for an echo this afternoon. You did remember to talk to her about?" he asked, looking warily over at him.

"Yes, I did, and she agreed as long as you stop if she asks you to."

"I'd like to get your opinion on Mr. Atchison's scans. There's no doubt he's got a mass in the left lung, but it may not be operable. We may have to take the lung."

"Alright, but after we take a look at Marcus Jones. Ernie said his father is here. Evidently, he hasn't left the boy's side since he got in." The two men turned the corner into the hall leading to ICU.

Mr. Jones was on his feet as soon as the two doctors walked through the automatic doors. Both went to the nurse's station first, asking if there had been any changes before they entered Marcus' room. "Mr. Jones?" said Trapper. "I'm Dr. McIntyre and this is Dr. Gates. Your son had multiple crush injuries. We were told he ended up under the pile of children when the bus rolled over."

"Crush injuries?" asked the distressed father. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean. I mean, I understand you mean he got them because of the weight on top of him, but I don't know what qualifies as a crush injury."

"A crush injury is anything that can be contributed to heavy weight," explained Trapper. "Marcus had a collapsed lung caused by a broken rip piercing the outside membrane of the lung. His kidney wasn't crushed, but the ureter leading from that kidney to the bladder was, causing urine to back up in the kidney. Dr. Gates removed the crushed portion of the ureter and reattached the exposed ends. Your son has a catheter and a bag, and we'll monitor that kidney to make sure there is no permanent damage."

"What if you find damage?"

"We'll determine the best course of action based on the significance of the damage. It could be that the kidney will heal on its own over time. His spleen was severely lacerated sufficient that it required removal. The spleen helps in the filtering of blood and the production of blood cells…all redundant functions, so he'll be fine without it. The remainder of the damage in his abdomen was some blood vessel damage which we repaired. We repaired a nick to the superior mesenteric artery that supplies blood to the pancreas and the intestines. Do you have any questions, so far, Mr. Jones?"

Looking down at his hands, Jones replied, "I'm afraid I don't know what to ask."

Trapper smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "It does sound complicated, doesn't it? Bottom line, we think we saved his kidney, but we're watching it closely just in case it can't correct itself. He doesn't necessarily need his spleen, and the rest of the damage was like little cuts here and there that we've sewn up. Now his lung…lung injuries can be a little tricky. Lung tissue is extremely fragile. We moved the rib back to its normal place. Then we used a combination of sutures and surgical glue to repair the lung tissue. We'll be watching it closely as well. A re-collapse of the lung is common, but as you can see," said Trapper, raising the sheet covering Marcus and referring to a tube coming out of his chest, "we're prepared to re-inflate it without requiring any additional surgery. Now, he hasn't regained consciousness because we're keeping him sedated. Your son has three broken fingers," Trapper said, pointing to the boy's right hand, "and as you can see, we have his leg in a cast. His tibia was broken as well. Marcus is going to be in a lot of pain, and we'd like to give the repairs we've done time to begin to heal before he starts moving around."

"How long will you keep him sedated?"

"At least to the end of the week. We'll bring him off slowly to see how he does, and as he comes off the sedation, we'll slowly add some pain medication."

"Thank you, Dr. McIntyre…Dr. Gates. I don't know what I would do if I lost my son. His mother died two years ago in a car accident. Alan Jaegar told me you didn't wait for consent…that you got a court order. I didn't know you could do that, but I'm so glad you did. He said you told him Marcus wouldn't have survived if you had waited."

"You're welcome, Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me Mike. I have a feeling I'm going to be here for awhile."

"If you need anything, just ask the nurse at the desk. They'll also be coming in frequently to check Marcus' condition, and if they think there's a problem, they'll page me or Dr. Gates. One of us will be by in the mornings and late afternoons. And Mr….Mike, there's a lounge just down the hall with some sofas. While Marcus is sedated, you should take time to rest. It won't do him any good if you let yourself get run down. When we start taking him off the sedation, he'll need you."

Leaving through the automatic doors, Gonzo asked, "Are you ready for Leah's echo?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"She had an appointment with David this morning. Wasn't she a wreck after her appointments with Eric?"

"David isn't Eric."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four **

"Ernie, have you seen Gonzo?" said Trapper, stopping at the nurse's station on his way to Leah's room. "Has he already released Leah?"

"Yes, he did," she answered, "and when he went to escort her out, she was already gone."

"Gone?"

Ernie couldn't tell if his expression meant surprise or concern…or both. "Mm hm," she replied, nodding her head. "He's looking for her now…in the basement."

"Thanks, Ernie," he said, walking toward the elevator and pushing the down call button.

When the doors opened, he met Dr. Sandler coming out. "Trapper, I was just coming to see you."

"Can it wait?" Trapper asked with his hand on the elevator door, preventing it from closing. "I was just going to find Leah."

"No, it can't wait. I just came up from there, and she's fine. She's gathering some work to take home, and Mark and Gonzo will help her bring it up."

Trapper laughed nervously. "Well then, I'd like to, at least, walk her out. Who's taking her home?"

"Mark's driving her home, and I'd prefer you didn't see her out." When Trapper furrowed his brow and sucked in the side of his mouth, David continued. "Your office or mine?"

Cocking his head and grimacing, Trapper considered David's question for a moment. He realized David was talking about a session, and knowing he should hear what David had to say, he decided he'd prefer his own office. At least he would be comfortable in familiar surroundings. Trapper motioned down the hall.

Going straight to the coffeemaker, Trapper offered coffee to David before he poured himself a cup. David shook his head and took a celery stick out of his pocket, sticking it in his mouth.

Sitting in his desk chair, Trapper leaned over on the desk, rather than leaning back and propping his leg up.

David took the chair in front of the desk and sat back, crossing his legs comfortably. "Why does this bother you? This isn't so much about you as it is Leah."

"What about Leah?" Trapper asked as he twirled his coffee cup on the desk, finally bringing it up to his mouth for a sip.

"Well, since Gonzo delayed releasing her until he got a clear chest x-ray, I've had a session with her every day for the last four days. "What is she to you, Trapper? Is she just a patient, a cause, a friend…or is she becoming something else?"

Exhaling loudly, Trapper leaned back, but kept his hands on his desk. "How would that make a difference?"

"John, aside from working through the loss of her children, the loss of her husband will be different and in some ways, more devastating for her. She had a very…deep relationship with her husband, emotionally and physically. Now that he's not here and she's starting to deal with it, she might just look for a way to replace what she's missing. One day, she'll realize she can't. After that comes the guilt…feelings of cheating on him. She's not ready to be more than a patient or a friend."

Turning his chair, Trapper stared at his sofa in thought. What did she mean to him? Was it more than friendship? The more comfortable she became with him, the more he saw her as the type of woman who would interest him…intelligent, insightful, compassionate, and certainly passionate about her work and the relationships she allowed herself. "What do you want me to do?" he asked solemnly.

"If you can honestly say she's just a friend, you don't need to do anything different. But if you feel something more, or even just think you might feel something more, I'd like you to keep your distance for awhile. At least until I've had time to work her through some of this. If you do see her and she…" he sucked on his celery stick and looked away, searching for the right way to say what he needed to say…"oh hell, if she comes on to you, you need to stop it before it goes anywhere."

Trapper still stared at the sofa. "Why would you think I might feel that way about her?"

"I didn't know anything until this conversation." Trapper sighed and took another sip of his coffee. David continued, "I asked the question because I think she thinks you're treating her as more than a friend. She's terrified."

"Of me?" asked Trapper, facing David.

"No. Of herself. She can't resolve the way she thinks of you with her feelings for her husband. She's still very much in love with him, and even though her head knows he's not here, her heart isn't quite there yet."

"Thanks, Mark, for bringing me home. I talked to HR, and they said Dr. Gates approved part-time paper work. That means you'll have to deal with the cabling and the missing equipment. I'll be seeing Dr. Sandler twice a week, so I'll bring you what I have completed."

"Leah, I can come and pick it up. In fact, why don't I just pick you up the days of your appointments? Then you won't have to hire a cab."

Looking into his eyes, Leah studied him. She didn't feel as comfortable around Mark since Dr. McIntyre mentioned that Mark might have feelings for her. "No, I don't want to have to start depending on anyone. I'm a big girl. Besides," she said, casting her eyes down, "Dr. Sandler has given me a lot to think about, so I can use the time in the cab to mentally prepare for my sessions with him."

"I thought it was odd that Dr. McIntyre wasn't there to see you off."

"Well," she said, looking down at her clasped hands. "He's a busy man. And he's not my doctor."

Mark thought that answer was a bit aloof. "Okay then. Is there anything else you need? Do you have groceries?"

"No, but then, I usually don't have a lot of food in the place. It's all right. I can have what I need delivered."

"Leah, what if something goes wrong while you're here alone?"

"Mark, stop. Dr. Gates wouldn't have released me if he didn't think I was beyond any danger. I'm healing. I know I'm healing because my incision is itching like crazy. Besides, I'll be talking to you on the telephone on a regular basis. I'll need you to go to the installation sites and check on things for me. Now go back to work. I'm fine."

When he hugged her as he normally would, she stiffened, and when he felt it, he took it as fear of being left alone. He lingered with his arms around her, stroking her back with his hand until she pulled her arms between them and stepped away. Searching her eyes, he didn't find what he had hoped for. His brows furrowed, and his mouth opened slightly; a look that made her feel guilty.

"I…I'm sorry. I'm still a little sore," she said with a quick, apologetic smile, hoping the explanation would be enough.

He met her eyes one more time, and then dropping his gaze, he hastily made his way to the door. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks Mark," she said, fading at the end. The door had closed before she finished.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Leah slowly looked around the living area of her apartment suddenly feeling very alone.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Trapper had just walked into his office and set his briefcase on his desk when a page came over the hospital PA system. "Dr. McIntyre to ICU. Dr. McIntyre to ICU." Quickly slipping off his jacket, he grabbed his hospital coat and rushed out the door.

As he hurried into ICU, a nurse came out of the room. "Doctor, his breathing is labored and his blood oxygen levels have dropped significantly."

"How long has this been going on?" asked Trapper as he moved the earpieces of his stethoscope to his ears and leaned over Marcus to listen to his chest.

"About ten minutes. We were about to start paging Dr. Gates."

"Mike, Marcus' lung has collapsed, and he's not getting enough oxygen with just the other lung. Nurse, get a ventilator in here along with a tube package." Turning back to Mike, Trapper put an arm around his shoulder and guided him out of Marcus' room. "I'm going to intubate him. That means he'll have a breathing tube down his throat that will be attached to a machine to help him breath. It will re-inflate the collapsed lung. We'll leave it in for a few days to allow the lung tissue to heal more completely before we take it out, and before we take it out, we'll lower the assistance he'll be getting from the machine to make sure he's breathing easily on his own. I need you to stay out here while we do this. Once it's in, you can come back in. A respiratory therapist will be assigned to him to answer any questions you have about the machine and breathing apparatus and to monitor him. She'll make sure the machine stays on the correct settings, and she'll make sure the tube itself is clear." Trapper met the man's fearful eyes. "Mike, this isn't completely unexpected, and it in no way changes his prognosis." Once he got a nod from Marcus' father, he followed the nurse pushing the machine into the room, going straight to the sink to wash his hands and arms. "Gloves. All right, pull the bed out so I can get behind it, and get him flat. Get me a laryngoscope with a number two Miller blade. Now tilt his head back…and here we go. There's the epiglottis. Tube. That went in easy. Now the cuff." Straightening up, Trapper withdrew the laryngoscope. "Alright, let's see how we did." Stepping back to the side of the bed, Trapper listened to both sides of the boy's chest and his abdomen. "Music to the ears," said Trapper, smiling. "Set the ventilator at fifty percent and call me with his O2 levels in fifteen minutes. And call respiratory therapy and get someone assigned."

Peeling off his gloves, Trapper stepped out of Marcus' room. "Mike, you can go in just as soon as the nurses get everything cleared out. A respiratory therapist will be up shortly to answer any questions you have."

"Thank you, Dr. McIntyre."

Squeezing Mike's shoulder, Trapper smiled. "You're welcome."

"Tell me about your first two days at home," Dr. Sandler said, writing something on his notepad.

"I haven't said anything. What are you writing?"

"The question," he answered ingenuously.

Leah chuckled. "All right then. Let's see…it was quiet. I got some work done." Turning away, she tried to hide her oncoming tears. "Uh…can we reschedule for another day?" she asked quietly.

"It's alright to say it was too quiet. After all, you've been in this place for weeks…and it's not usually that quiet here. What did you do at home before your surgery?"

"I ate, I bathed, I played my guitar, and I read…a little. I watched people, and I went for long walks." She looked beyond him and smiled, picturing her last visit to Leo in her mind. "I ate lots of fresh crab." Snapping back from her reverie, she said, "But I wasn't there but a few hours out of the day."

"Oh? Where were you?"

"Here. In my office."

"In the basement. In the dark." No answer. "No one's come to see you?"

"No."

"Is that what you want?" Again she was silent. "Leah, I'm not here to tell you what you should and shouldn't want or do. My job is to help you find what you want…what will make you happy. Can you tell me the last time you felt happy? And if not happy, I'll settle for good. Okay, you've stopped talking to me altogether. Don't think you're leaving early. I can ask questions the entire hour. And I promise you, you will go home and think about them, so it's not a waste of my time." She shook her head slightly, and then rubbed her temple with her fingers. "When was the last time you enjoyed something without thinking about John and the children?"

"Dinner…with Dr. McIntyre the night of the bus accident."

"And before that?"

Her eyes slowly drifted off to the side. "Pescadero," she said barely above a whisper.

"Why?"

"I suppose it was pleasant enough that I just didn't think of them for awhile."

"Now that you've said it, how does that make you feel?"

"Contrary to what you might think, I don't think of my children and my husband every minute of every day. That's one reason I work so much. So I don't dwell on it."

"Why don't you invite some of your friends over to your apartment for dinner?"

"I don't have any friends, Dr. Sandler. I have acquaintances. And certainly none that I'd feel comfortable inviting to my apartment."

"Because you're the Mushroom Queen."

She raised her head and looked straight at him. "Ice Queen suits me better," she said angrily and looked away.

"Why children?"

"I miss being able to comfort my own children…to make them laugh…to make them feel…" she choked a sob back. "I suppose I feel like the ultimate failure. I always prided myself in being a good mother. I didn't over-indulge them, I made them brush their teeth twice a day, I made them wear sunscreen outside, I made them eat their vegetables. And we had fun doing all those things. But I couldn't keep them safe." Taking a deep breath, she pulled a tissue out of the box on the table next to her and wiped her eyes. "I suppose you're going to tell me I shouldn't take an interest in other people's children."

"I don't see anything wrong with it."

"You…you don't?"

"You know, all those parents are lucky someone's willing to spend time with their children when they can't. And as long as you know the difference…that they're someone else's children, why not?"

"Then why am I here?"

"Leah, it's not the loss of your children you need to learn to deal with. You're doing that. But you haven't even begun to deal with the loss of John. Well, you have, at least you think you have…or maybe you don't know you have."

"Stop. What are you talking about?"

"Did you and John have friends?"

"Of course we did."

"Why do you suppose you don't have adult friends now?"

"Our friends didn't know how to handle what happened. They had no idea what to say, and it had been such a long time since they tried…because I was in the hospital for so long, I guess they just stopped trying. Anyway, I didn't go back to the house. I didn't go back to the lake house. I found work elsewhere, and I only stayed in one place long enough to get a job done, and then I'd go somewhere else. And it would have been the same here if McIntyre hadn't found my pills on my desk."

"Are you angry with him for that?"

"Yes. No." She bowed her head. "I was. I'm not mad at him anymore."

"Do you consider John a friend?"

"I don't know. He must not think of me that way. After all, he didn't say goodbye when I left, and he hasn't called to ask how I am. He kept me grounded while I was here. He was just doing his job."

"Do you really think that?"

"Dr. Sandler, I'm a very logical person. I have to be because of what I do. Why don't you just say what you're thinking instead of beating around the bush?"

"All right. What are you going to do when you're faced with romantic feelings from another man when you're still dealing with feelings for your husband?"

Smiling, she answered, "My husband is dead. I can't _feel_ his lips on mine. I can't _feel_ his hands on my skin. I can't _feel_ him making love to me." Tears welled in her eyes, and she whispered, "I can barely remember his voice."

"I don't believe that. When you go to bed at night, you can't sleep because you still feel him. You don't want to stop feeling him. What you want is someone to make you feel again. Only when everything is said and done, you'll feel guilty…like you cheated on John. So you don't risk it."

"Dr. Sandler, you underestimate me. I know perfectly well I can't cheat on a dead man."

Pointing to his head, Dr. Sandler said, "You know that here. But do you know that there?" he said, pointing to her heart.

She glanced up at him angrily, and then looked away, trying to calm the conflicting voices in her head. Reaching down beside her, she picked up her purse and stood, and without looking back, she left his office.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

Leah sat on a bench in front of the hospital, waiting for her cab. She had managed to leave the program designs she brought with her on Mark's desk while he was away. She wasn't prepared to face him again after their parting conversation her first day home. And why not? What if he did have romantic feelings for her? He was attractive, had a wonderful personality, and they certainly had things in common. No, she couldn't even bring herself to imagine being with him. He would always be a kid brother. But how was she going to explain that to him without hurting him?

Her deep sigh was easily seen by the doctor sitting on a bench across the plaza who watched her as she waited for her cab. She didn't look forward or even around her. She avoided the possibility of meeting the eyes of anyone walking by her. He'd stayed away as Dr. Sandler had asked, at least long enough, he thought, to understand his own feelings for her. Now watching her, he was second guessing himself. Still, he got up and walked across the plaza, sitting next to her on the bench.

She looked the other way, aware that someone had sat down next to her, but without knowing or caring who. Then she sniffed the air, and slowly turned. "Dr. McIntyre. I'd recognize that smell anywhere," she said, smiling. He looked at her with raised eyebrows and a slight opened-mouthed smile. "It's a nice smell," she clarified.

"How's my favorite patient?" asked Trapper, chuckling.

"I'm not your patient."

"Then there's no reason we can't be friends, is there?" She smiled tentatively as she looked down. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know," she answered, looking across the parking lot. "I seem to be a little lost without my work to keep me busy."

"I thought Dr. Gates said you could do some desk work."

She looked back at him, squinting in the bright sunlight. "Desk work, yes. At home. All by myself. I'm afraid I'm finding that I'm not very good company. Besides that, I think too much lately. If I could just do…something…anything that would get me out of my apartment."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Taking a walk would be a good starter. And then I think I'd like to go explore those places I never bothered exploring…like Pescadero," she said, blushing and smiling at the same time.

"That would be a little too much this soon. Leah, you had surgery on a transplanted heart. You know the risks of rejection, but you're also more susceptible to infections. For instance, you've already had one that Dr. Gates was able to take care of fairly quickly. But that might not always be the case."

"Am I doomed to be cooped up for the rest of my life?" she asked, somewhat distressed.

"Not necessarily, but you need to give yourself time to heal. And three months might not be long enough this time. I have no idea how you managed that the first time."

"Well, I was in a wheelchair because of my hip, so I really couldn't get into much trouble. And I had to ride a bus for the handicapped, so I didn't have to do anything but sit in my chair. My left arm and shoulder were in a cast and a brace, but I could still write since I'm right-handed. I just needed something to occupy my mind, and Dr. Avery felt that work was saving me from debilitating depression."

"I see no reason you can't work, but you can't be the person you were before this surgery. The stress of that kind of environment alone could cause more problems. And you can't work sixteen hour days. You have to find time to relax…and get some exercise." He knew he'd upset her by the way she turned her upper body away, rather than just her head. "I didn't mean to preach, but you needed to hear that while you still have an open mind."

Taking a deep breath, she turned back and gave him a forced smiled that eventually relaxed into something genuine. "Have you had lunch, Dr. McIntyre? You see, I haven't had lunch, and I'm starved. Only, I don't have anything at the apartment to eat, and it will take awhile to get something delivered." Her look changed to almost pleading. "I'll buy."

Laughing, Trapper said, "I know just the place where you can get something that won't clog your pristine arteries. I'll drive."

"Wait. What about the cab?"

"There'll be someone else who needs a cab out here in a matter of minutes. Trust me." Standing and holding his arm out to her, Leah hesitantly wrapped her arm around his and let him lead her to his car where he opened her door and held her hand as she got in.

"So what's this healthy place you're taking me for lunch?"

"Chez McIntyre." Trapper heard the breath she sucked in. "Relax. It's just lunch."

Closing her eyes, she exhaled as quietly as she could and stared out her window for the remainder of the drive, looking forward only when she felt the car slow, turn and stop. As they waited for the garage door to open, she looked up and was taken by surprise. "You live in a Painted Lady?"

"Mm hm," he grunted. He drove in, and then showed Leah into the house. "You know, I was just as surprised at your apartment in the old cannery building right across from the wharf. There's usually a waiting list a mile long to get in there…and you got a rooftop apartment."

"It's a sublease. The woman I lease from got married and moved, but didn't want to give up a prime piece of real estate just in case it didn't work out. The only catch is that I have to leave at a moment's notice if she decides marriage isn't for her."

"Come on into the kitchen. I'll let you earn your keep."

Laughing, she said, "And just how do you know I can cook?"

"Well, I don't, but it doesn't matter. Everything we need is already cooked. How do you like stuffed tomatoes?"

"That depends. What are they stuffed with?"

"Chicken salad."

"You're in luck. I like tomatoes and chicken salad."

Trapper pulled chicken, vegetables, mayonnaise, fresh herbs and two boiled eggs out of the refrigerator, setting everything on the counter. Next, he produced two cutting boards from behind the toaster, and two knives out of a drawer. "Grab something and chop." He placed a bowl between them, and picked up a knife. "How are the sessions with David going?"

"Dr. Sandler?" Trapper nodded. "Well, better than Dr. Matthews. She smiled as she chopped celery. "Dr. Sandler is…how do I say this? His thinking is a little disjointed. I get the feeling he never learned to temper what he actually thinks before it comes out of his mouth, at least, not completely. But it's actually very charming…and sometimes funny." She stopped chopping and looked ahead of her in thought. "He's easy enough to talk to…until he hits a nerve. Is this enough celery?"

Peering over from the chicken he was chopping, he said, "Yep. Put it all in the bowl." She moved the celery away and picked up an onion. "What nerves does he hit?"

She looked at him and smiled. "You're a nosey doctor, aren't you?"

Sniffling, he answered, "You don't have to answer, you know. This isn't right. You're chopping the onion, and I'm the one who's crying."

"Open your mouth. You'll stop crying. Better yet, do you have a candle handy?"

Trapper stopped chopping, wiped his hands on a towel, and left only to return a minute later with a candle and matches. "Where do you want it?"

"Right there," she said, pointing behind the bowl.

Resuming his chopping, Trapper said, "You were saying?"

"Was I?" she asked teasingly before she continued. "He said the way I'm dealing with the loss of my children is fine as long as I remember the children I see belong to someone else. But he thinks I'm going to have a much bigger problem dealing with John."

Moving the chopped chicken into the bowl, Trapper separated several different sprigs of herbs from their bunches and began to chop again. "And why would that be?"

"He thinks if I become involved with someone else…" She stopped chopping and lowered her head. "He thinks the guilt will be too much for me. He thinks I'll compare someone else to John, and it will never be enough." She brought the knife down harder than she had intended. "At least, until I manage to get John out of my system. The only thing is I don't know how I'll ever get John out of my system without there actually being someone else. And I don't think I'll ever stop loving John just because there's someone else in my life." After dumping the onion into the bowl, she picked up the water chestnuts, and chopped quietly for a moment before she stopped again. "The truth is I'm lonely," she said faintly. "And I need to take care of some things that I never did."

"Like what?"

"I need to sell the house in LA. But I'm afraid to go back. An entire life with John and the kids is still in that house…their clothes, the kid's toys, John's skis and bicycles. What do I do with those things?"

"Seems to me you have the topic of your next session with David." Trapper dumped chopped eggs into the bowl and looked over at her board. "That's enough water chestnuts. Plates are in the upper cabinet to your right, stainless is in the drawer right in front of you, and glasses are back there," he said, nodding behind him, "next to the fridge." While Leah set the kitchen table, Trapper added mayonnaise, olive oil and vinegar to the bowl along with salt and pepper and mixed the salad. He loaded up two tomatoes, bringing them to the table. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine."

Taking a pitcher of ice water out of the refrigerator, he poured both glasses and sat at the table next to her.

"Mm. This is really good, Dr. McIntyre."

"Trapper." She glanced over at him with her mouth twisted. "Look, you're in my kitchen having stuffed tomatoes for lunch. Don't you think that warrants a friendship?" Looking up at the ceiling, she chuckled and nodded.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

"Good morning, Mike," said Trapper as he walked into Marcus Jones ICU room while looking at his chart.

"Dr. McIntyre, the nurses said something about an infection early this morning?"

Still reading the chart, Trapper said, "His temperature is elevated. Most likely an infection has started in his lungs since he's been on his back for awhile. Nurse," he said, addressing the young woman who was waiting at the door of the room, "get someone up here from respiratory therapy. I want to get a culture through his tube." Trapper wrote something in the chart, closed it and pushed his glasses up on top of his head. "Mike, this is most likely the beginning of pneumonia. It's not unusual for patients confined on their backs to get pneumonia. Because they aren't moving, small pockets of fluid can collect at the bottom of the lungs, and if it sits too long without adequate movement, it can harbor bacteria we normally breathe in from the air. We'll go ahead and start him on a wide-spectrum antibiotic now, and when the culture comes back, we'll adjust if necessary. After we take the culture, the top of the bed will be raised to a more upright angle, and I'll have him turned every hour so that he's laying more on his sides. That should clear it up."

Mike gave him a worried, almost defeated look.

"Mike, with the injuries Marcus sustained, this doesn't surprise me. The important thing is that the staff is keeping a close watch on him, so we can catch these kinds of things early enough to successfully treat them." Slowly sitting down in the chair next to Marcus' bed, Mike nodded solemnly. "Is there someone you can ask to spell you so you can get some rest and take care of your regular daily tasks?"

"Yes. Alan Jaeger is coming in for awhile today. I need to go home and pick up a change of clothes and the mail."

"Good." Trapper looked up when the respiratory therapist entered the room. He caught the nurse's attention and nodded toward Mr. Jones. When Mike left the room, the therapist set the packages required for the culture on the bed next to Marcus and handed Trapper a bronchoscope. "Alright, we're going to go right down the tube to collect a specimen. Go ahead and disconnect the ventilator. This shouldn't take more than a minute."

True to his word, Trapper made quick work of the culture, and by the time Mike came back into the room, the therapist was walking out the door with the cultures and the bronchoscope. "Mike, does Marcus have any drug allergies?" asked Trapper.

"He's allergic to penicillin."

Trapper wrote in Marcus' chart as he spoke to the nurse. "Start him on a ten day course of erythromycin, one hundred milligrams by injection today, and fifty milligram injections starting tomorrow. And let me know as soon as the results of that culture come in tomorrow." He turned back to Mike. "The culture will take at least twenty-four hours to grow. I'll let you know the results tomorrow. In the meantime, try to relax. This is something we can take care of fairly easily," he offered with a reassuring smile.

As Trapper walked down the hall toward his office, Gonzo fell in line next to him. "The oncologist is here to discuss Mr. Atchison's chest x-rays. You interested?"

Both men changed direction. "Sure. Who's the oncologist?"

"Bart Henry."

"He'll want to scrub, you know."

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all. He's one of the few who _will_ scrub, and he's pretty good at catching problems while the patient is open. Last time I performed surgery for one of Bart's patients, we ended up doing eight biopsies."

"Why is that good?"

"Because we avoided having to do additional needle biopsies or having to go back in. He can see the tissue first hand without having to wait for the perfect view on an x-ray."

When they pushed open the door of the x-ray room, Dr. Henry was already there, looking at the x-rays. "Bart, how the hell are you?" asked Trapper, taking Dr. Henry's offered hand with his other hand on the oncologist's shoulder.

"Personally, John, just fine. But these x-rays worry me."

"Bart, this is Dr. Gates. He's the surgeon you'll be scrubbing with."

"Dr. Gates, John speaks very highly of you. As I understand it, you grew up in a MASH unit."

"Yes sir, I did."

"Well, if you can impress Trapper John, you have to be damn good."

"Thank you, sir."

"What do you think about Mr. Atchison's lung?" asked Trapper.

The three men looked up at the x-rays on the light box. "The mass itself looks like it's confined to just this lobe," said Dr. Henry, pointing at an x-ray. And I don't see any evidence of growth in the other two lobes, but I'll want biopsies of both. But take a look at this one. Do you see the problem?"

"Mm hm," grunted Gonzo. "The lymph nodes in the mediastinum are enlarged."

"I'll want biopsies from those as well. You might as well do it while you're in there. There's no point in waiting for a needle biopsy."

"So we're looking at a lobectomy and multiple biopsies," said Gonzo.

"Yes, but be prepared for a pneumonectomy, just in case. Sometimes you can tell by the tissue color the cancer has spread before it shows up on an x-ray. In this case, the tumor will be a very dark red to almost black where the normal tissue will be a healthy pink. If we see the same colors as the tumor in the other lobes, it's just a matter of time before the tissue will grow big enough to be seen in a picture. And with Mr. Atchison's age, I'm not sure he'll survive a second surgery so soon after the first if a biopsy comes back positive."

"And what if we see similar coloration in the other lung?" asked Gonzo.

Turning, Dr. Henry walked just past Gonzo and reached back to put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll close him up, and we'll make him as comfortable as possible. John, will you be assisting?"

"That will depend on the schedule. I do have other surgeries scheduled for the next few days."

"I'll get it scheduled and let you know when, gentlemen," said Gonzo as the two older doctors left the x-ray room. Gonzo took another moment to look at the x-rays, then pulled them down and turned off the lights.

"Bart, would you happen to have a patient named Carlotta Costa? She's being treated for breast cancer," asked Trapper.

"I do, but she's not here. She's over at Bay General. Why?" Dr. Henry asked as they boarded the elevator.

"I'm asking for Leah Haverty."

Dr. Henry snorted. "That woman walked in from out of the blue, demanded a meeting with me, and asked what I intended to do about Carlotta. Well naturally, I told her there wasn't much I could do but refer her to county. The Costa's had no insurance. She asked what treatment would cost, and when I told her, she sat down at my desk and wrote out a check for the full amount. Then she said if I needed more to let her know at the number on the check."

"What happened then?" said Trapper, chuckling. "I apologize. It's not really funny, but…well…that's Leah; sharp-tongued and to-the-point."

"Well, I was speechless, and before I recovered my tongue, she had already marched out of my office and disappeared. But whether she was abrupt or not, she saved Carlotta's life. Carlotta's last test results were on my desk this morning. She's completely clean. Of course, she'll have to have follow-ups, but for right now, she's off any restrictions. I'm not seeing her again for six months."

With a wide grin, Trapper said, "That's great news. Leah will be happy to hear it."

"She will? I just assumed she paid because there was some reason she had to," Bart said, stepping out of the elevator on the main floor and turning toward the front doors.

"Nope. When Leah introduced me to Leo Costa and told me about Carlotta, she said she did it for the Costa's two children. She said they needed their mother. You'd be surprised just how gracious she can be."

"I don't understand. Why would she do that?"

"Because she lost two children of her own. Did you know John Lewis? He was killed in a car accident four years ago."

"Yes, I did. John sent me several patients with synovial cell sarcoma. And I remember the accident. But what's that got to do with Ms. Haverty?"

"Leah Haverty is Leah Lewis, John's wife."

"Oh. Well, that might explain it." He shook John's hand. "It's good to see you, John. I'll see you again in a few days." Trapper waved as Dr. Henry walked into the parking lot.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Wandering into Trapper's office, Gonzo sat dismally on the sofa and just stared forward. Trapper, who was sitting in his desk chair, staring out the window, didn't even turn around, lost in his own thoughts. After five minutes of silence, both men got up for coffee, and as they prepared their cups, Trapper asked, "What's bothering you?"

"I just got out of surgery. Atchison's chest is full of cancer. We had to close."

"Has Bart already left?"

"No. He went up to the seventh floor to work on Atchison's protocol. As soon as he's stable, he'll be transferred up there. I was surprised you didn't scrub in."

"I had a situation with Marcus Jones. There was blood in his urine this morning. The kid's gonna lose his kidney."

Turning away from each other, both men went back to their former seats.

"At least he can still live a normal life with the other kidney," said Gonzo. "You win some, you lose some."

Leah Haverty was early for her appointment with Dr. Gates, and her appointment with Dr. Sandler was several hours away, so she wandered into the cafeteria for a light breakfast. As she went through the line, deciding on mixed fruit, she noticed a man sitting at a table, staring despondently into his cup of coffee. "Do you know how long that man has been here?" she asked the cashier.

"Over an hour. His coffee has to be cold."

"Why don't you add another cup of coffee to my bill then," she said, still watching the man. His fixed gaze into that cup was painfully familiar. "Excuse me. May I join you," she asked.

Looking up with red eyes, he replied, "I'm afraid I'm not very good company at the moment. But you're welcome to use the table."

She sat down across from him, and taking his coffee cup out of his hands, she slipped the replacement in.

He looked up, and opened his mouth to say something, but rather offered a slight forced smile and resumed his coffee vigil.

Watching him for a few minutes, she knew whoever was here that this man loved wasn't doing well. "Sometimes it helps to get it out. Trust me. I know."

He looked up again and with an expression close to contempt, he replied. "I don't think so."

"Try me. If I really don't know, I'll leave you alone."

Mike thought why not tell her. It would be an easy enough way to get rid of her. "My son…he was injured in a bus accident. He has a collapsed lung they can't seem to keep inflated, a damaged kidney that they told me today they'd have to take, and a ventilator that's causing pneumonia, but has to stay on to keep his lung inflated."

"I remember the bus accident. I was a patient here when it happened."

"Yeah, what were you in for?" he asked, disinterestedly.

"Heart issues. Dr. McIntyre, the Chief of Surgery here, fixed the one in my chest. Dr. Sandler's still working on the other one." Mike looked up with creased brows. "I don't want to bore you with the gory details, but I do want to give you something." She reached over to his hand, pried it from the coffee cup and squeezed, and with a single tear rolling down her cheek, she looked him in the eye. "As long as there's life, there's hope. Hold on to it."

Mike watched as Leah stood, took her tray to the conveyor, and left the cafeteria. Lowering his eyes to the chair she had occupied just seconds before, he nodded, took a long drink of coffee, and headed back to Marcus' room.

Leah walked right by Trapper as he came down the hall from his office. "Leah?" he called.

She stopped, but before she turned, she wiped her eyes and put on a smile. "Dr. McIntyre, how are you?"

"I thought we decided it would be Trapper. Touching her shoulders, he bent slightly to see her face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, unconvincingly, trying to hold back tears. One escaped.

"Come on. Let's go to my office," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders, and turning her back down the hall. When they arrived, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to her."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm sorry. There was a man in the cafeteria who looked like he had already given up. But his son is alive. He can't give up."

Reaching around her, Trapper gently guided her head to his chest and held her as she cried. "Did he say who he was?"

Slowly regaining her composure, she answered as she dabbed her eyes, "No, but he did say his son was injured pretty badly in the bus accident."

"Ah. Mr. Jones."

She lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Is his son one of yours?"

"Mm hm."

"Is he going to live?"

"He will. His injuries are no longer life threatening, but he has a ways to go. Mr. Jones is terrified of losing him. The mother was killed in a car accident a few years ago, and Marcus is his only child."

"Ah. And the world just got a little smaller," she said, handing the handkerchief back. "Dr. McIntyre, thank you again, but I have to run. I'm going to be late for my appointment with Dr. Gates."

"What happened to Trapper?" he asked, holding his hands out to his sides.

She sighed. "That's going to take some getting used to."

"Well, that's a start." As she turned to leave, he asked, "Lunch?"

Stopping, she took a deep breath. "Sure. But it will have to be in the cafeteria. I have an appointment with Dr. Sandler early this afternoon, and then I have to go downstairs for a little while."

"I'll stop by the exam room on my way to the cafeteria," he said. When she was gone, Trapper looked down at the handkerchief still in his hand and smiled.

She knocked on the office door and stuck her head in. "Leah, come on in," said Dr. Sandler as he closed a file on his desk, and stood. "Come on and sit down." He motioned to a chair on the other side of his office, and once she was seated, he sat in an identical chair opposite her. "How are you today?"

"Well, I just came from an appointment with Dr. Gates, and he said a few more good checkups, and he'll release me to go back to work with limited responsibilities." David looked quizzically at her. "That means I can't go crawling around looking for wiring harnesses under the floor." This time his eyebrows creased. "Never mind. He also said I couldn't work extra hours anymore, and that you had to release me as well."

"Do you think you're ready to be released?"

She smiled and looked down at her clasped hands. "Dr. Sandler, I realize you're not ready to cut me loose, but I see no reason I can't work while I'm seeing you."

He pushed his lower lip up and nodded. "How's your appetite?"

"I'm eating if that's what you're asking. In fact, I had lunch with Dr. McIntyre today in the cafeteria."

"John mentioned he took you home for lunch several weeks ago. He said you talked about cleaning out the house in LA. You had questions?"

"You doctors have a conspiracy here, don't you?"

"Why would you say that?"

She shook her head. "I never went back to either house, and both houses are full of…their lives…our lives…together. It's just something I've been thinking a lot about lately, and I thought maybe that was a sign that it was time…to go back."

"Well, if you do, I don't want you to go alone. Take someone with you who you think can be supportive. It won't just be cleaning out the house. You'll be letting another piece of them go."

"I know," she whispered. "I just don't know how to begin…how to choose what I keep and what I don't."

"I suggest that if you have doubts about any piece of it, you keep it, even if it turns out to be a lot of stuff. You can always rent a storage unit, and then you can go back from time to time and revisit your decisions.

"My children grew up…" She stopped and held her breath. "I was going to say they grew up in that house, but they didn't really grow up at all, did they?" She took timorous breath. Aggravated by her lack of control, she jerked a tissue out of the box on the table next to her.

"There's a parent's group that meets every other week over in the hospital annex. These are parents who have lost children. I'd like you try it. If you don't feel comfortable, you don't have to go back. But if you decide you need some support, you'll know who and where they are."

She laughed nervously. "Dr. Sandler, I'm not exactly the type who likes large get-togethers."

"These are people who can give you ideas about cleaning out their things…about letting go. Most of them have already done it. Some are in the process, and some, like you, haven't started."

"I'll think about it," she said quietly.

"Good enough. Now, how are you sleeping?"

"That depends on what happens on any particular day. I guess I have the most trouble when I've spent the day in my apartment doing nothing in particular. But Dr. Gates said I could start walking again…as much as I want, but without exhausting myself. So hopefully, that will help. And I still owe Dr. McIntyre a fishing trip."

"Fishing?"

"Yeah, fishing," she said, chuckling. "He'll be surprised, I think. I used to go fly fishing with John…waders, basket, the whole nine yards. I even used to make a mean fly."

"You're spending more time with him, aren't you?"

"I suppose. He called me one evening I just happened to be a mess, and he came over and pulled me kicking and screaming out of my apartment and took me to a drive-in movie," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "I hadn't been to a drive-in since I was in college."

"Anyone else?"

"Specify, Dr. Sandler."

"Do you spend time with anyone else?"

"No, not really."

"Why not?"

Her smile faded. "He's the only one who asks. Besides, Dr. McIntyre gives me straight answers when I ask about my future…my future physically. I know the possibility of living to a ripe old age is…greatly reduced."

"Does that bother you?"

"I guess I've been thinking about my mortality more lately since I was so close to death recently."

"At one point, you weren't sure you wanted to live."

"I didn't want to die. I just didn't know I didn't want to die."

What happened that convinced you?"

She knew all he wanted was for her to say it out loud, but still he was becoming annoying. Her next words came out a sharper than she had intended. "I almost died."

"Have you thought about John lately?"

"Dr. Sandler, I told you, I think about all of them every day."

"All right. What started you thinking about John today?" She stared absently forward. "Leah?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. She glanced at him, then away, remembering earlier in Dr. McIntyre's office. "What are you thinking?"

She shifted uneasily in her chair. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"I can see that. Talk about it anyway."

"I met a man in the cafeteria this morning. His son is here…in bad shape. He's one of the kids from the bus accident. This man looked like he had given up, even though his son is still alive, and…it upset me. When I left the cafeteria, Dr. McIntyre saw me walking down the hall, and…I ended up in his office, crying on his shoulder. Well, it wasn't his shoulder. He held me, and while he was holding me, I wasn't thinking about anything but the man and his son, but when I left his office…I remembered how John's arms felt around me. I remembered feeling…safe. The same way I felt…" David could barely hear the rest. "In Trapper's arms."

"When you realized this, what did you feel?"

She bowed her head. "Like I had betrayed John." Another tear slowly made its way down her cheek and dropped onto her lap.

"Leah, John's dead. You can't betray him."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

Mark looked over Leah's cube wall. "Hey," he said quietly. "I saw your car in the parking lot, so I thought I'd see if you were down here."

"Come on in, Mark."

Mark pushed the sliding door aside and stepped inside Leah's cube, going past the chair right up to the desk. She turned from pulling some books out of her overhead cabinet, and when he saw her eyes, he became concerned. "Leah, what's happened?" he said, leaning over her desk.

She took a step back. "It's nothing…really," she said, moving the books into her briefcase. She glanced up at him, and gave him a contrite smile. "I just got out of a session with Dr. Sandler." An unaccustomed silence fell between them. "So have I been keeping everyone busy enough?"

Mark thought for a moment, and then snorted. Never since he'd know her had they had trouble making conversation. "We have plenty of work to do, yes. As a matter of fact, you've managed to give us enough to warrant some overtime."

She smiled as she closed her briefcase, and handed him another pile of papers. "Read through this and let me know what you think of the new designs. Oh, and go over the surgery restriction rules carefully. I don't necessarily agree with the hospital board, but they've decided that Slocum will be only point of contact for lifting surgical restrictions in case of an emergency. And go over the rules from The Joint Committee for continuing federal and state accreditation, and the items that will trigger an audit by the insurance commission. I'm giving you update authority on the databases, the same as mine, while I'm out. Read those rules carefully, and don't do anything that will put the hospital at any risk."

"Why now? We've been fine without having your level of access?"

"When you read those designs, you'll understand. They're the last of the edits on the databases. If the blanket updates go in wrong, you'll have to manually fix them, and the only way to do that is to go native in the database."

There was that odd silence again.

Leah took her briefcase and stepped around the desk. "Call me if you need anything, Mark."

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm. "About the day I took you home…" She stopped, facing away from him and holding her briefcase with both hands on the handle. "Leah, you know how I feel about you. I've felt that way for a long time; even before you married John. It doesn't matter if you don't feel the same way. I just want to help you."

She hung her head. "Mark, I appreciate that you want to help. But I really don't think there's anything you can do. I have to work through…the things I've never tried to deal with until now."

"If I can't help, how can Dr. McIntyre? You keep saying he's not your doctor. So what is he?"

She closed her eyes and turned to face him, but couldn't look him in the eye. "He's…become a friend, I guess…who just happens to have a great deal of knowledge about my physical condition and how my emotional condition affects me bodily." With a short, flippant laugh, she finally looked him in the eye. "These doctors, they all talk. Dr. McIntyre knows when I need to be rescued from myself. That's all he's doing. He may not _officially_ be my doctor because he and I were at odds in the beginning, but in reality, Dr. Gates doesn't do anything concerning me without discussing it with him first." Rubbing her forehead with her fingers, she changed the subject. "Look, I'm going to Los Angeles next week, so I'll be out of touch. I'm going to try to get the house emptied so I can put it on the market."

"I supposed Dr. McIntyre is going with you to help," Mark said bitterly.

Agitated, she took a deep, calming breath before she answered. "As far as I know, Dr. McIntyre doesn't even know I'm going. Nurse Shoop has offered to go with me. It seems she lost her husband some time back and had to deal with his things. I think she can offer some objectivity. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get out of here before Dr. Gates finds out I'm down here. I really don't think he'll be happy." She turned and walked out of her cube and to the elevator without looking back.

"Leah!" called Ernie, stopping her just as she was stepping out the door.

"Ernie, are you on your way out?"

"Yes, I am. I'll walk with you," she answered, smiling.

"Well, I'm not going far. Dr. Gates still won't let me drive."

"I just wanted to tell you I got the time off, so I'll be ready to leave for Los Angeles Monday afternoon."

Leah bowed her head. "Ernie, I know I didn't start out on the right foot with you. I appreciate you helping me with this. I think once I walk into the house, I'll be quite lost."

Smiling, Ernie touched her arm. "I expect we won't get through much the first day except maybe a box or two of tissues. But once you get started, it'll get easier. Do you have plans for the weekend?"

"I thought I'd try to make a list of some of the things I'd like to keep. Beyond that, I'm just going to try to relax. Dr. Gates said I could start walking, and there's some people I haven't seen in several months that I'd like to check in on."

Ernie looked through her purse. "I'm going to have to go back upstairs. I think I left my keys on my desk." Looking out the doors, she said, "Your cab is here. You'd better go on before someone else grabs it."

"Good night, Ernie," said Leah, smiling as she walked out the door.

Upstairs, Ernie found her keys on her desk where she suspected, and as she stood waiting for the elevator to go back down, Trapper joined her. "Do you have plans this weekend, Ernie?"

"No, not really. I just have to pack for next week. You?"

"Nothing definite. Gonzo said Leah can get some exercise now, so I thought I'd see if she wanted to take a walk on the wharf. There's someone she needs to see. Pack?"

"That may not be a bad idea. I'm going with her to Los Angeles next week to help her clean out her house. She said she was going to spend the weekend making a list of the things she knew she'd want to keep," said Ernie, stepping on the elevator with Trapper behind her.

"You sound like you think that's a bad idea."

"Well, she's going to be dealing with the house all next week. I would think it would be better if she didn't dwell on it this weekend."

"In that case, I've got some very definite plans for the weekend," he said, smiling as they stepped out of the elevator just as Mark walked by them toward the front doors.

"Mark," said Trapper. "Have a nice weekend."

Stopping, Mark slowly turned and stared at Trapper with what appeared to be a barely controlled sneer before he continued on without saying a word.

"That's not like Mark," said Ernie with raised eyebrows. "What was that about?"

Trapper snorted. "Territory."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

Leah sat at the small patio table on her rooftop deck, looking out over the buildings lining Jefferson Street, wondering why Sandler felt it necessary to bring up romantic feelings. There was no one in her life right now for whom she had feelings, and even though Mark did, she didn't share them. She barely had friends, or rather people she might call a friend. How did he expect her to resolve her feelings for John when there was no need because there was nothing to replace them?

When her telephone rang, she looked back over her shoulder and considered answering it, but decided against it. She had some thinking to do. She had to remember all the things in the LA house that she might want to keep; those things that were special…more important than most of it.

John's attorney had all the important papers…marriage license, birth certificates, mortgages, and investment accounts, so she didn't have to worry about those. She began to think of her earliest times with John…before the kids came along, and how bound and determined she was to record everything. She wrote photographs, pictures and videos on the previously blank notepad. Next was her private box containing all the letters and notes John had ever written her.

The phone rang again, and she turned for a moment and glared at it, then turned her attention back to her list. Her jewelry included items that had belonged to her mother and John's mother as well as pieces John had given her over the years.

Laughing, she remembered her kitchen. Though she couldn't take it with her, it brought back the memories of John ripping the kitchen out three times before he felt he got it right, fussing and fuming the entire time while she maintained a difficult smile because through it all, she had loved her original kitchen most; something she never told him.

Every morning after he got called to the hospital the night before, she'd wake up to a red rose in a bud vase on her night table. She wrote down 'bud vase.'

Mentally going through the children's things would be difficult. Other than the photos and videos, much of what they had were their clothes and toys. She had their memory books that she had religiously kept up-to-date, containing locks of their hair at different ages and all the teeth the tooth fairy ever paid for. How odd a feeling to have a physical piece of her children at the same time she couldn't touch them. Moving her hand to her chest just above her heart, she realized she had a physical piece of them all. Even in death, John was still taking care of her. Silent tears began to flow. Setting the pencil down, she bowed her face into her hands.

She had no idea how long she had sat crying into her hands. The phone had rung several times, and now someone was persistently knocking at her door. She didn't budge until the next knock came with a voice.

"Leah, it's Trapper. I know you're in there." He knocked again. "Leah!" he called a little louder.

Pushing the chair away from the table, she rose and walked to the door, leaning on it with her lips at the crack where the door was latched. "What do you want?" she said feebly.

Holding the knob, Trapper moved closer to the door and said quietly, "I know what you're doing. I don't think you should do it alone."

"I'm fine," she said, choking back a sob.

"I don't think so. Open the door, Leah. Please." He heard her throw the bolts, but the door didn't open. Turning the knob, he pushed, taking one step inside and looking around before he entered and closed the door behind him. He walked to the patio table, and looked down at the notepad, reading her list and taking a deep breath, letting it out through his nose.

Leaning on the half-wall of the roof-top deck, she watched the lights of the city slowly brighten as the sun sank in the sky. She didn't flinch when he put his arms around hers, grasping each of her wrists in front of her. Closing her eyes, she let herself feel the strength of his hands and arms, the warmth of his body against her back and the comfort of his breath moving across her cheek. Was she taking advantage of Trapper by letting him get this close? Was she cheating on John for allowing this John to console her?

Moving his lips close to her ear, he asked in a quiet, deep, soothing voice, "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer his question, but rather answered her own. She couldn't cheat on John because John was dead. She couldn't betray the trust and love her children had for both of them because they were dead. And this John in this moment made her _feel. _She turned in his arms and looking into his eyes, she moved her hands to either side of his face, tiptoeing until her eyes closed and her lips met his only for a second. They were soft and warm, and his breath was sweet, and she found herself pressing her lips against his, opening her mouth and giving him the gentlest touch with the tip of her tongue.

Trapper hadn't moved; he hadn't moved his hands from her waist nor had he stepped back away from her. When she looked back into his eyes, he met hers with understanding, and even now, he didn't let her go.

Her eyes slowly dropped, her head slightly bowed, and her hands moved to his chest even as his chin rose imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes followed hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have no reason to be sorry," he answered as softly.

Holding on to his jacket lapels, she snorted. "Dr. Sandler was right. I wanted to feel something…tangible…again. I'm afraid I've used you."

His expression settled into a satisfied smile. "Did it help?"

"Yes, I think it did," she said, chuckling.

"How?"

Looking back into his eyes, she said, "In my mind, I wasn't kissing John. I was kissing you. And I don't feel guilty."

He took both of her hands from his lapels and kissed them, then turned back into the apartment with his arm around her. Stepping backward one step, he took the notepad from the table. "Have you started packing yet?" She nodded. "Put this in your suitcase. You won't need it again until you arrive at the house. We have plans for the weekend."

"Oh, really?" she said, smiling.

"Mm hm. Now go change into your little black dress. We're going to get some fresh crab, and then we're going to a little blues club I know where local guitarists provide the entertainment."

She headed for her bedroom, but stopped and cocked her head before she turned. "How do you know I have a little black dress?"

Grinning, he answered, "Doesn't every attractive woman have a little black dress?"

She disappeared into the bedroom, but left the door open. "Trapper, make yourself at home. There's tea, juice and milk in the fridge. Glasses are in the cabinet next to the fridge."

Pouring himself a glass of tea, Trapper wondered back out to the deck and watched people moving up and down Jefferson Street, some dressed for the evening, some dressed to spend the evening on the street. Twenty minutes later, he was still people-watching when Leah came out of her bedroom, dressed in a long-sleeved, knee-length, midnight black jersey tube dress that clung to every curve of her body. She had dressed it up with a long double strand of white pearls and stiletto heels. "Trapper?"

He turned and froze, sucking in the side of his mouth as his eyes slowly moved from her eyes to her legs and back up. Setting the glass he was holding on the kitchen table before he reached her, he motioned toward the door. "Shall we?"

Smiling, she walked out the door, handing him the key, and as he walked down the stairs behind her, he noticed there were no lines underneath her dress. There was no zipper on the dress. There wasn't even a back seam which made the whole look very smooth.

When they reached the sidewalk, Trapper held her hand.

She stopped walking. "I am a big girl."

Smiling lasciviously, he chuckled and answered, "No doubt about that. But you walk much too fast for those heels. You'll break your leg." He looked at his watch. "On second thought, we need to hurry." Grabbing her hand, he pulled her next to him, placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her quickly down the sidewalk, turning left at Taylor where the seafood vendors were. There was still a crowd even though some of the vendors had already closed.

When they stopped in front of Leo's spot, Leah looked up, opening her mouth wide in surprise. "Carlotta, what are you doing here? I thought you had to rest."

Leo walked up behind her without her seeing him, and when she turned, he took her face in his hands and kissed each cheek. With tears in his eyes he said, "My Carlotta is free of the cancer. She doesn't go back for six months."

Throwing her arms around Leo's neck, Leah laughed. "That's wonderful news!"

By this time, Carlotta had rounded the case, bringing her children with her. Speechless, she and Leah held each other, crying together at the good news. Trapper and Leo each picked up a child, and the oldest, five-year-old Lorenzo, leaned over for his own hug.

Turning to Trapper, Leah asked as she wiped her eyes, "How did you know?"

"Carlotta's oncologist is a friend of mine," he said, smiling.

"Come, come," said Carlotta, pulling Leah behind their space where a table was set with candles, crab, salad and wine. They ate dinner in the moonlight with the lights from the covered sidewalk casting a yellow glow their way and Italian music drifting out of Alioti's Restaurant just down the sidewalk.

"Leah, Carlotta and I were worried. We haven't seen you for weeks. When Dr. McIntyre came by to ask us to stay tonight, he told us you haven't been well."

Leah covered his hand. "Did Dr. McIntyre tell you what was wrong?"

"No. He said that would be up to you."

Looking over at Trapper, she winked. "I had to have heart surgery, Leo. There was a weak spot on my heart that Dr. McIntyre and another doctor fixed."

"You're her doctor? I thought…"

"Leo, he's not my doctor. Dr. Gates is my doctor. But Dr. McIntyre is Chief of Surgery at San Francisco Memorial where I was a patient, so he assisted Dr. Gates."

"So you're not…" Leo said, moving his finger back and forth at them.

Laughing, Trapper smiled over at Leah and answered, "We're friends."

"For now," Leo said with raised eyebrows, nodding his head mockingly.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One **

Trapper took the hand he was holding and draped it over his arm as they walked down the sidewalk toward the night club he had mentioned earlier that evening. Familiar with the direction they were heading, she wondered if it was the same nightclub she had frequented when she first arrived in San Francisco before she became so busy on her current project. He had mentioned local guitarists. It had to be the same place.

When they arrived, Trapper paid their cover charge and the two were escorted to a table in the center of the club; not right next to the stage, but several tables back. The club band was already playing. "I hope you don't mind the middle," said Trapper, leaning in to her ear. "It gets rather loud right up front."

She smiled as she took the seat he held for her. "It just so happens I prefer the middle in the back myself, but this is fine."

"You've been here before?"

"Yes. I used to come here when I first arrived in the city. I stopped when the project work picked up."

One of the waiters watched them until they were seated, and then went up to the side of the stage, disappearing behind the wings. He and another man leaned out, looking into the crowd and pointing. The waiter went back to his job, but the other man behind the wings stepped out, and walked to their table. "Mrs. Lewis, it's good to see you back," said the man with a thick British accent, almost yelling. "You were a favorite here. May I ask why you stopped coming by?"

"Please join us, Reggie," she said loudly, smiling. "This is Dr. John McIntyre. Dr. McIntyre, Reginald Rose." The two men shook hands. "Reggie owns the club."

"I've seen you here before, Dr. McIntyre, though not recently. I'm happy you decided to return, which brings me back, Leah, to why you left."

"Work. I just got very busy."

"May I offer your usual…on the house, of course."

"Thank you, Reggie," she said with a bright smile.

"And for you, Dr. McIntyre?" Trapper looked at Leah with raised eyebrows.

Covering his hand with hers, she shook her head and leaned toward him. "It won't bother me."

He offered her a smile, and then ordered. "I'll have a naked martini…two olives."

"I'll be back in a few moments," said Reggie, turning and hurrying to the bar.

"Martini? I figured you more as a wine kind of guy."

"Oh, martinis and I go way back to a place where we made our own."

"We?"

Smiling and gazing beyond the table, Trapper remembered his MASH days. "Captain Hawkeye Pierce and I used to make the perfect martini." She gave him an inquisitive smile. "In Korea."

"You were a surgeon in the war?"

"Mm hm," he answered, nodding, but offering no more. Moving his chair next to hers, Trapper put his arm around her and leaned in, speaking in her ear. "You were a favorite here?" She turned away, scratching her neck, but he turned her face back to his, the warmth of his breath causing a pleasant tickle that made her smile. "I'll tell you what. If you tell me what Reggie meant by that, I'll give you one free personal question." A waiter delivered their drinks along with a bowl of mixed nuts, chex and pretzels while Reggie stood on stage, talking to the club band's guitarist and pointing into the crowd.

"Oh dear," she said, biting the end of her index finger nervously. "I think you're about to find out."

"Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who've been coming in to listen to some good blues guitar for awhile, you'll remember a little lady who got up here every weekend and emptied her heart right on this stage. For those of you who are new, you're in for a real treat. Lady Leah Lewis is with us again tonight.

Waving her hand and shaking her head, she smiled and blushed.

"Looks like she's gonna need a little coaxing. Everyone put your hands together and get her up on this stage." The veteran patrons all turned and clapped, and when she continued to shake her head, they began to stand, whistling and chanting until Trapper finally nodded and motioned toward the stage. Leaning in, he yelled, "It doesn't sound like they're going to let you slide," then stood, whistling and clapping right along with them.

Standing, she turned to him and shouted, "Traitor!" before she made her way through the crowd to the stage. "I apologize for my appearance," she said, prompting a round of whistles and catcalls. Holding up her hands, she continued, "This isn't exactly what I'd prefer to wear while playing guitar." Removing her pearls, she pointed to Trapper and tossed them over the front tables. Taking a guitar from the band guitarist and removing a pick from the strings just under the nut, she turned toward the amp, and played a riff, setting off another round of whistles and applause. Making some slight adjustments to the tuning keys, she played another, nodded to the band and turned to the mike. "Little Boy Blues."

She started slowly with clear, clean notes, playing typical slow, low blues. Then she made the strings talk just before her fingers flew over the frets to a build up that screamed pain. After another quiet moment, she exploded into a climax that brought tears to her eyes. Trapper watched as she played with her eyes closed, as she finessed the strings into a story of excruciating sorrow and anger to exhaustion, defeat, and then a slow, quiet fall to mere existence. Not only did she make them feel her heartache with the music, she showed it to them on her face, and when she was done, she turned away from her appreciative fans for a moment to wipe her eyes. Handing the guitar back to the band's guitarist, she accepted a hug and whisper in her ear. She left the stage and avoided looking out, but waved and nodded as she made her way through a crowd that appeared to respect her evasion, several of them reaching out to touch her, offering some softly spoken words of commiseration.

Trapper's arms were open when she reached him, and she stepped into him and buried her face in his chest as his arms surrounded her. "Why don't I take you home?" he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket for her.

She looked up at him, sniffling, and while he wiped the wetness of her tears from her face, she smiled. "Thank you, but no. I'd like to stay and listen. Please."

"Are you sure?" he asked with some concern.

"Trapper, the older crowd here is used to this. This is probably why they like me so much here. Most of what you see in blues clubs these days are people who have studied blues and are technically adept at it. But they don't feel their music. This club invites guitarists who play to express themselves, and you may not like all of the music itself, but you'll surely appreciate the stories. Taking the handkerchief from his hand, she wiped her nose one more time before she turned to sit down. "I may need this again tonight." Trapper cocked his head with a surprised smile as he resumed his position beside her. "Oh, I'm not playing again. They know they only get one out of me."

As the club band played, Trapper leaned in and asked, "What is that you're drinking?"

"Cranberry juice. It's supposed to be good for my kidney, and since I only have one, I should take care of it."

With a slight smile, he narrowed his eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living." They sat and listened to the music the rest of their evening without saying much, Trapper with his arm around her and Leah eventually leaning into his side. They left after several hours of listening to good blues. As they walked back to her apartment, he placed his jacket over her shoulders, and put his hands in his pockets. "Mark told me you played the guitar the day he trained me on that box taking up valuable space on my desk." She creased her eyebrows. "You asked how I knew you played in the elevator. Don't you remember?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I did," she said, chuckling. "And by the way, you should just admit that you like your computer. My trending reports don't lie."

Trapper smirked, and then chuckled. "He said computer programming and music go hand in hand because of the logic involved."

"It's true. Computer programmers tend to be good mathematicians, and mathematics is the basis of all sound. Pythagoras regarded one, two, three and four…only those four numbers…as the source of all perfection. And the closer you get to those numbers in music, the more pleasing the sound to the human ear."

"I had no idea."

"Yep. Every chord depends on harmonics and frequency, both of which are described in mathematical terms." Trapper smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm boring you," she said.

"You're not boring me. You're just…over my head. Listen, I thought we could go out on the boat tomorrow and do some fishing. If you like it, we can stay out and come back in Sunday."

"Hm. Overnight on a boat? How big is this boat?"

"It sleeps four, and it has a galley and a bathroom. All you need to bring are your clothes, your toiletries, your guitar, and maybe a good book to read while you relax and soak up some sunshine. I'll take care of everything else."

"My guitar?"

"Yes, I thought I'd bring my guitar so you can teach me some blues riffs," he said as he rounded the corner toward her apartment.

She laughed. "You've been holding out on me. I don't know, though, Trapper," she said, glancing back up at him apprehensively.

"Look, if you don't want to go fishing, then we'll just have to drive up the coast to Sea Ranch and spend the weekend. You are not going to spend the weekend working on that list. You'll be in LA for what, a week?"

"Not quite," she said, mounting the stairs to her apartment.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not leaving you alone in your apartment with that list this weekend."

Stopping in front of her door, she went through her clutch looking for her keys, and when she pulled them out Trapper took them from her and unlocked her door, pushing it open. He dropped the keys in her hand. "Trapper, it was a lovely evening, especially since I had started it with…anyway, I did forget…until now. Thank you."

Taking both of her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles, and with a half smile and a sparkle in his eyes, he said, "Any time."

"About tomorrow," she said, looking at her hands in his, and slowly pulling them away. "I'm not sure…I mean, I…"

"Stop worrying," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's just a fishing trip."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Trapper climbed the stairs to Leah's apartment dreading the amount of luggage he knew he was going to have to lug down the stairs. It never failed that when he traveled with a woman, she packed for every contingency plus enough clothes for an extra week. Leah's door was wide open.

"Leah?" he called in. Worried that something might have happened, he stepped in without waiting for an answer. He looked in the kitchen, walked out to the patio, and finally started toward the bedroom. "Leah? Are you here?" He spun around when he heard her answer at the front door. "Where…"

"I had to go to my storage to find a smaller bag. My suitcase is way too big for a boat trip. Good morning," she said with a smile as she walked past him into the bedroom.

Following her, he stopped at the bedroom door and watched her pack. "Isn't it a little dangerous to leave your apartment open when you're not here?"

"No, not really. I figured you'd be here any minute, and I didn't want you to think that I wasn't here because I didn't want to go. Besides, my storage room is right down below the stairs. I saw you come up."

Puckering his lips, he raised his brows and nodded as he watched her pack, not so much at her explanation, but at the way she was packing. She threw in a change of clothes, a sweatshirt, a swimsuit and cover, flip flops, a brush, three or four tubes and bottles, a book, and a lady's wallet. Taking her sunglasses from her night table, she put them on, and then pushed them back on top of her head, taking her hair back at the same time. "My guitar is on the sofa. Would you mind getting it? I just need to close the slider and get my hat."

Slinging the duffle strap over her shoulder, she disappeared into a closet, returning with a sun hat, and by the time he had the guitar, she was headed for the door. He watched her go, chuckling at first, his chuckle turning into an all-out laugh. "What's so funny?" she asked as he took her keys and locked her door, putting the keys into his pocket.

He looked at the guitar case, holding it out, and pointed to the duffle. "I don't think I've ever gone anywhere with a woman, even just for an overnight, without a small load of luggage."

"Oh, well, that would depend on where I was going, and this weekend, I don't really see a need for much more than this. After all, we will be on a boat…fishing, right?"

"Right," he said enthusiastically, taking the duffle from her and following her down the stairs. He opened his trunk, laying her duffle on top of his bag.

"Good grief," she said. "It thought this was for one overnight. What's all this?"

Pointing, he said, "That's tackle, and that cooler is for fish. You do want to bring back some fresh fish, don't you?" She nodded, smiling. "These are cooking utensils, and these are rods."

"Why don't you just leave this stuff on your boat?" she said, looking over everything.

"Because it's not my boat. I'm borrowing it."

"Ah," she said, opening the passenger side door of the car, and lowering the seat to put her guitar in the back. "There's another cooler back here?"

"Well, we do need something to go with our fish, don't we?" he said, grinning and holding her hand as she stepped into the car. Closing the door, he smiled all the way to the other side. "Here we go."

When Trapper parked the car at the dock, Leah asked, "How far down is the slip?"

"All the way at the end."

Stepping out of the car, she went back to the trunk. "All right then. Load me up."

"Oh no you don't. You're not supposed to be lifting anything."

"You're not going to carry all this stuff down to the end of the dock by yourself."

"You're right. I'm going to get a loading cart. You stay here and guard the booty," he said with a snarl in his best pirate voice. She covered her mouth with her hand, hiding a grin at his cheesiness. With the cart loaded and the car locked, they made their way down the dock.

"Pulling is as bad as lifting. What are you going to do when I hook a big fish?"

"I'll bring it in for you."

"Oh no. If I hook it, I'm bringing it in."

Looking at her over his sunglasses, he said, "We'll see."

Trapper stepped up on the boat, turning and pulling Leah up. Next, he unloaded the cart and both worked on stowing everything in its place as Trapper gave Leah a tour. On the main deck, a living area was center, opening to the bow where there were two chaise lounges and a table. To aft, the cockpit contained two fighting chairs. Below deck were two cabins with their respective heads and showers, and the galley. Trapper moved their bags to their rooms, and then joined Leah in the galley, putting away the food from the cooler. They climbed up to the fly bridge, and Trapper maneuvered the boat out of the slip. Standing side by side, they slowly left the marina for the bay.

Trapper took the boat all the way out and brought her speed up to a steady cruise, heading southwest under the Golden Gate Bridge. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling Leah in front of him. Moving his arms under hers, he placed her hands on the wheel with his over them. "Do you feel the resistance?" She nodded. "The swells tend to pull her, so you have to apply a little force. The trick is to watch the compass and maintain that heading." He removed his hands from the wheel and stepped away from her.

"Wait! Where are you going?" she said apprehensively.

He grinned. "I'm just going to turn on the other instruments."

"What other instruments? You can't leave me up here alone!" she shouted mildly frantic. "I don't know how to drive a boat."

Leaning over her shoulder, he gave her a rather smug smile. "You're driving one," he said, kissing her cheek. "I just have to turn on the circuits. All the instruments are up here. The radio, the weather receiver and the radar have extra sets in the main cabin."

"But what if another boat comes?" she yelled, turning and seeing that he was gone.

"Stay to the right," he shouted from the bottom of the ladder.

"Stay to the right, he says," she mumbled tersely, holding the wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. Studying the panel next to her as her eyes darted from the ocean in front of her to the instrument panels around her, she started flipping switches. "Radar, sonar, antennae, navigation…depth, speed, wind speed…fish finder? This thing finds fish for you?" she yelled.

"Yes, it does," said a calm, deep voice behind her that caused her to jump. "I see you've been flipping switches. You left out the AIS," he said, flipping that switch.

"I didn't know what it was."

"Automatic identification system…required by the Coast Guard on a vessel this size."

She nodded. "Is thirty-five miles per hour enough?" she asked, pointing to the navigation console.

Trapper broke out in a high-pitched chuckle. "That's not miles per hour. That's knots."

She gave him an embarrassed smile. "I knew that…somewhere…in the deep, dark recesses of my mind." Still chuckling, he stepped into her side, wrapping one arm around her and putting his other hand on the wheel, relieving her of steering duty. "And what about a fishing license? I don't have one."

"Yes, you do. I added you temporarily to mine."

"I don't see why you need a fishing license to fish in the ocean anyway. It's not like the state stocks the ocean…or does anything to maintain it. And what if you fish in international waters? They don't _own_ those fish even if they think they own the others."

"You're a little late to that party," he answered, pulling her closer into him.

Watching his eyes move from right to left and back to center, she decided she didn't mind his arm around her since he wasn't really paying much attention to her. But when he turned and looked her square in the eye, she instantly cast her eyes down, suddenly feeling uneasy. Gently pushing away, she said, "Why don't I go get some drinks? What would you like?"

"I have a better idea. I'll bring up a variety for the fridge up here." Grabbing her hand, he put it on the wheel underneath her menacing gaze. "Don't worry," he said with an animated glare. "I'll be right back."

When he came back up with a bag full of bottles and cans, she waited until he had stocked the small refrigerator to say anything. The wind and boat noise made it hard to hear unless they were standing right next to each other. He walked up behind her and caught her hair in his hand, moving it away from her ear and leaning in. "I've got orange, apple and cranberry juice, root beer, Sprite, Pepsi, beer and water. I also brought some tea bags and coffee, and some wine. What can I get you?"

"We're only staying one night, aren't we? Why so much?"

"With the wind and the sun, whether it's hot or not, you _will_ get dry out here. It's easy to get dehydrated. I expect we'll drink most of it."

She smiled. "Root beer. It's been a long time since I've had one."

"Root beer it is," he said, returning her smile. He grabbed himself a beer and traded her root beer for the wheel.

"How far are we going before we stop?"

"Not that far. Just a little further south out of the shipping lanes."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

"Do you know how to fish?"

"Why didn't you ask me that question before you arranged this little trip?" she asked with a puckish smile.

"Because it didn't matter until now."

She huffed and looked away. "I've never used a casting rod."

"What other kind of rod is there?"

"A fly rod."

Trapper had been slightly bent, addressing Leah as she sat in one of the fighting chairs. Now, he stood up straight, and arched a brow in surprise. "You fly fish?"

She lifted her chin rather arrogantly. "Yes. I tie flies, too."

"Well, forget everything you know. Salt water fishing isn't anything like it," he said, turning and picking up a long salt water rod and reel. He took a breath before he began his explanation, but she interrupted him.

"Can't you use a fly rod surf fishing?"

"Well, yes, but we're on a boat, remember?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "Now, as I was saying…" Trapper explained the use of each rod and reel, and then went through the bait and what each rod should be used for. When she yawned, he stopped abruptly.

Covering her mouth with her hand, she said, "I'm sorry. I feel like I've been up forever. What time is it?"

Scowling, Trapper looked at his watch. "It's eight."

She yawned again. "Breakfast?"

He folded his lips into a straight line and blew out his nose. "I tell you what. Why don't you go fix us some breakfast while I get these lines baited and ready?" Laughing, she eased out of the chair, sliding by him when he stubbornly refused to move out of her way. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Put a man on a fishing boat and he becomes a fishing fiend," she said, still laughing as she went down into the galley. Fifteen minutes later, she returned with a fresh pot of coffee, two cups and forks, a bowl of fruit, nuts and berries, toasted and buttered English muffins, and sliced cheese. "Dr. McIntyre, I'm impressed with your shopping prowess." Hovering over her, he raised his brows and gave her an expectant glare. "What?" she asked puzzled.

"Dr. McIntyre?"

Biting her lip, she answered meekly, "Trapper."

With a satisfied grin, he moved a table within reach of the two fighting chairs, relieved her of her burden, and then motioned her back over to her chair. "We're going to start by teaching you how to cast from your chair. You don't have to cast far; just enough to get your bait away from the back of the boat. We're letting the boat drift, so the line will go out on its own. Once it's out about twenty feet, you're going to lock your reel like this," he said, showing her the lock and setting it. "And then you wait until you get a bite. You'll probably feel some small nibbles first. Don't set the hook until you feel a strong bite. Any questions?"

"What happens if it's a really big fish? Won't it pull the rod out of my hands?"

"No. You're rod will be attached to your harness."

"Well, won't a really big fish pull me out of the boat?" she asked with wide eyes.

He laughed. "You're harness will be attached to your chair."

She tilted her head down to see where the chair was attached to the boat, and satisfied, she looked back up with an agreeable smile and a quick nod.

"Your chair, my dear," he said, taking her hand and helping her in. "I'm going to leave the foot board up so that your knees are bent. I don't want you landing a fish so big you need to stand and use your body weight."

"What happens if I get one that big?"

"I'll stand behind you and help you with the rod." When she pouted, he smirked. "Take it or leave it." She acquiesced and sat back in her chair. "Lean up so we can get your harness on." Slipping the harness around her, he reached around and fastened it in front, and then showed her how to fasten the harness to the chair. Walking in front of her, he lifted the rod and slipped it into the rod holder between her legs. Next, he reached down between the chair and the rod holder, grabbing the end of a strap that was dangling from her harness. "This end fastens onto the rod like this," he said, showing her where to attach the strap to the rod. "Your harness doesn't hold you back in the seat. It's designed to stop you from coming completely out of the chair, but gives you room to lean back and forth. That allows you to reach your bait bucket on your right, your tools on your left, and your coffee on the table. It also allows you to cast. Now, sit tight while I get my harness on."

She watched as he prepared himself, but rather than sitting in his chair, he picked up another rod and walked back to her. "You'll have a second rod here on your chair. This rod will be weighted to drag or almost drag on the bottom."

"We're interested in bottom feeders?" she asked, grimacing.

Leaning against her chair, he asked teasingly, "You do like sole?" She smiled agreeably. "And halibut?"

"All right, I get it."

"When you see play in the tip of this rod, you'll unhook the rod in front of you and move it to the rod holder over there," he said, pointing to the far arm of her chair, "and you'll move this one center, and bring the fish in. I'll show you how to remove the hook the first time, and then we'll talk about what we can keep and what we have to throw back, and if we keep it, which well to put it in."

She blew out of her mouth and frowned. "Maybe I should just watch you fish. Ocean fishing is complicated."

"Not on your life. Besides, you're almost ready to fish. I just need to show you how to cast."

After her first few casts left her bait on the deck of the boat and Trapper's chin propped on his hand, patiently watching, she finally cast it over the back and into the water. Casting her second rod seemed much easier, and he shook his head and chuckled his way to his chair after watching her victory dance in front of hers.

Glancing over to make sure her harness was secured to the chair, he fastened his own, and cast his two rods. She sat eagerly anticipating a bite with both hands on the center rod, looking over at Trapper and smiling occasionally. After twenty minutes, her shoulders slumped, she let her rod lean forward on its own, reached back for a cup of coffee and speared a piece of fruit on a fork. "At least, when I'm fly fishing, I'm moving."

"Pass me one of those, will you?"

"Coffee or fruit?"

"Both."

"How long is this going to take?" she asked as she passed him a cup of coffee.

"We'll start getting bites after the chum spreads out."

"Chum?" she said, passing a fork bearing a strawberry and a chunk of cantaloupe.

He took a sip of coffee and whistled. "That's hot. Ground up fish. I threw a chum line in while you were practicing your casting."

"Isn't that cheating?" she said with a mischievous smile.

"Look at it this way. The ocean is big body of water, so it stands to reason the fish are fairly well spread out, right?" She shrugged. "The chum will attract them, but you still have to get them to take your bait," he said, winking. "And speaking of taking your bait, your other rod is twitching."

"Oh," she said in a little squeal, dropping her cup and fork on the table. She closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself, unfastened her center rod, moving it to her left, and then moved the bending rod to the center rod holder, attaching the strap.

"Now, move your hands further up on the rod, lean forward, and now pull back."

"How do you know this isn't a big fish?"

"Because it's not really bending the rod that much. Now, as you lean forward again, reel in some line."

By the time she got the fish to the boat, Trapper was out of his chair ready to bring it up on deck. "This is a halibut. Come over here, and I'll show you how to figure out if we can keep it." They measured the fish, determined how many they could catch, and then put the fish in one of the two live wells. Putting his arm around her shoulders and walking her back to her chair, he asked, "How does it feel to bring in your first fish?"

She smiled and blushed at the same time, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It was fun."

"Good. Now go bait your rod and cast again."

"Bait my rod?" she asked warily as she followed him back to his chair.

"Yes, bait your rod. I showed you how," he said, fastening his harness to his chair. Just as he secured his rod, the tip bent. "Got something here," he said, straining to pull the rod back and laughing. "It's a big one."

"Should I do something?"

"Watch…and learn."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

It was late afternoon by the time Trapper and Leah secured their fishing gear and headed down into the galley to prepare dinner. Leah washed their breakfast and lunch dishes while Trapper went up to retrieve the salmon he had caught earlier in the day from the ice well. When he laid the fish on a plank on the counter, she frowned.

"Why the long face?"

She turned and crooked her jaw as she leaned her elbow on the front of the sink. "You hit that fish between the eyes with a club. Did you have to do that?"

"Yes, I had to do that," he said, smiling. "Salmon won't survive in a live well, and they go bad quickly, so you put them out of their misery, and then put them on ice. My dear, you are going to eat like a queen tonight," he said cheerfully, as he headed up to the deck with his fish and knives.

She finished the dishes and pulled out vegetables to roast with the fish, cutting them all into chunks. Then she went out onto the deck where Trapper was cleaning and filleting the salmon. "You have a practiced hand, doctor. Almost like a skilled surgeon." She smiled and offered him a drink of her wine.

"This…" he said, waving his hand over the dissected fish, "doesn't bother you?"

Scowling, she said, "Really. I'll have you know I've cleaned and filleted my fair share of trout, thank you."

"Then what was all that business with the bait?"

"Oh. Well, I use flies, and not the insect kind…not…squid. Anyway, after the first one, I did alright."

He smiled and winked. "Yes, you did. I had almost decided against fishing, but you seemed all right with it."

"Why would you have chosen something else?" she said, sipping her wine and offering him another.

"Women don't usually enjoy going out on a fishing boat unless they're in the company of other women. I think you might be the first woman I've brought out who's actually tried fishing from the chair."

"Other women you've brought out? On this boat?"

"I'm not taking that bait," he said, shaking his head as he cut the salmon into fillets. Would you wrap these fillets in freezer paper as I cut them? We need to get them in the freezer, except for the last two." He turned and smiled. "Those are for dinner."

After the salmon were on the grill along with the vegetables, Trapper pulled two hoop nets up over the side of the boat, and pulled out four good-sized lobsters. He put two in the well on the bow of the boat, and took the other two down to the galley where Leah was making rice pilaf to go with the salmon. She didn't look up from her work, and Trapper was able to pull the lobster pot out, fill it with water and put it on the stove to boil before she turned around. Having put the lobsters in the sink with ice, he turned and leaned back in front of the sink with his arms crossed, blocking her view and wearing a mischievous grin.

"What have you done?" she said, looking from the pot back to him and rising up on her toes to get a glimpse of whatever it was he was hiding.

"Listen, would you…ah…do me a favor and go check on the salmon. It's time to turn it over. The vegetables need to be turned, too."

She stepped up against him, looking impishly into his eyes before she faked to the right, and then jumped to the left, getting far enough to see what was in the sink before he lifted her and moved her back in front of him. "Where did you get those?" she said delightedly.

"From the ocean," he said, rolling his eyes.

She gave him a playful pop on the shoulder, and turned toward the steps, pointing. "Salmon."

Sitting back with both hands on her stomach, she blew out her cheeks, and said, "Shame on you, _Dr. McIntyre_; tempting me with all that food."

He chuckled. "You didn't really eat that much; a piece of salmon and a lobster tail."

"And dill sauce and clarified butter."

"That kind of stuff once in a while isn't going to hurt you. And now that Gonzo has released you to walk as much as you want, more choices are right around the corner."

"More choices?" she asked, reaching forward for her glass of wine.

"For exercise. Just because you're a transplant recipient doesn't mean you can't do much of what you used to do. I do know that John was very active. I imagine you were right there with him."

She smiled and looked out at the moonlight shimmering on the ocean ripples. "You know, I haven't thought about John all day."

"Until now? I'm not going to apologize for bringing him up. He was a major part of your life. You have good memories that you should never forget. That doesn't mean that you can't live a full life now that he and the children are gone." He paused and took a sip of wine. "What sort of things did you do before the transplant?"

"We snow skied. We went scuba diving. We hiked…up mountains. We went fishing. We went camping. And when we weren't doing that because of John's work schedule, we swam laps. But Dr. Avery told me I couldn't do all of that anymore. At least, not at the level I was used to."

"That's true. Take scuba diving. You shouldn't do any deep dives because of the pressure, but shallow diving isn't out of the question. You shouldn't take the black diamond ski runs, but if you were that good before, blue runs are possible if you're careful. And as long as you take your time, hiking moderate trails shouldn't be a problem once you work back up to that."

"Half the fun came from the company," she said, frowning.

"So find some new company."

Sitting up, she quickly downed her wine. "Hey, didn't you want to learn some blues riffs?"

Late the following afternoon, as Trapper guided the boat back home, Leah sat on the fly bridge in the captain's chair lamenting as she watched the stark but beautiful nothingness of the ocean slowly become filled with the silhouettes of monuments to civilization. Trapper reached back and pulled her up to his side. "There's another long face."

Smiling timidly, she turned sideways in his arm and put her arm over his shoulders. "I have to admit, Trapper, I had a good time. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun."

"All that, and she brought in the biggest fish, too," he said, grinning.

"No, not really. How much did you say it weighed?"

"Oh, about seventy pounds."

"Yeah, and I thought I was going overboard when it took my bait, even though I knew I was fastened to the chair. That part was a little frightening. But I didn't land it. I only held on for dear life. It was you pulling that rod back." He winked and turned back to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge overhead. "So what are we going to do with all that fish?" she asked.

"I have a friend who meets me at the dock. He takes the fish, cleans and packages them, and keeps part of the take as payment. We've already taken care of the salmon, but I think we'll keep the halibut, sole and sea bass, and give him your tuna, if that's alright with you."

"Will he sell it?"

Shaking his head, he said, "No. He'll feed his family. I don't think either of us has room in our freezers for that much fish anyway."

"What if we trade some of the other for a couple of tuna steaks? Maybe I can return the favor of this weekend by making you some fresh homemade sushi."

"You know how to roll sushi?"

"Well, it's not that hard with the right equipment. Oh, and I don't do sashimi. I don't want to be responsible for someone's food poisoning."

He smiled. "Smart girl."

Once docked, Trapper introduced Leah to Kelly McKenna who helped haul everything to car, and then went back to the boat to clean it and take care of the fish. Trapper and Leah said their goodbyes, and headed toward home.

Standing at Leah's door, Trapper leaned in and set her bag and guitar inside. "Now remember; you are not to look at that list until you get to the house tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I'm going to take a shower, finish packing my last minute things and go to bed. If we're lucky, Ernie and I can get out of here a little earlier than we planned so we can miss the LA rush hour." They stood silent before Leah said, "Thank you again. I really did have a good time."

"Had you ever been on a fishing boat?"

"Not a fishing boat. But there were occasions when we went out with friends on a yacht…for scuba diving or parties. I think I like the fishing better," she said, chuckling.

"I'd tell the guys I have a new fishing buddy, but I think they'd resent me for bringing a woman along on a 'no females' weekend. They all have wives."

"I'm sure I'd feel a little out of place anyway," she said, holding the edge of the door. "I'll see you…when I see you," she said, smiling up at him.

Trapper returned a look of contentment; of certainty in what he was about to do. He took the step that separated them, raised his hands to her face, lifting it up to his, and first brushed her lips with his, then kissed her gently. Even though he saw some reluctance in her eyes, he pressed his lips against hers while moving his arms around her and drawing her into a tight embrace. Coaxing her mouth open with practiced delicacy, his kiss was deep, intense, yet tender. When their lips parted, she instantly looked down at her hands on his chest, realizing she was lightly pushing. He moved back slightly, but only loosened his hold.

"Trapper…I…I'm not…ready…for this," she stammered.

"There's no pressure here," he said softly, drawing her to him so that his mouth was at her ear. "I just wanted you to know you have options." He kissed her temple, lingering there for a moment before he let go and smiled. "Good night."

The corners of her mouth twitched upward in a hesitant smile. "Good night," she whispered, closing the door when he turned away. With her forehead on the door, she raised a trembling hand to her lips while her other hand felt for the locks and threw the bolts one by one.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

Trapper sat in his office reviewing the charts of his patients. He'd release Mrs. Baxter after he checked her sutures one more time. When he got to Marcus Jones' chart, he sat back and read. His fever had broken over the weekend, and Gonzo had started easing him off the ventilator. At the rate he was going, the tube would come out in a few more days, and then Trapper would start reducing the sedation. As soon as he was off the ventilator, he'd order another lung x-ray. The incision where he had removed the kidney had been red, so he had ordered a topical antibiotic to fight off the local infection. It seemed Marcus was well on his way to recovery now.

When the telephone rang, Trapper didn't answer immediately while he finished reading the last paragraph. Then he reached for the phone and pushed the flashing button. "Dr. McIntyre."

"Hello, Trapper."

"Ernie!" he said, laying the chart on his desk to give her his full attention. "How's it going?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid. Monday, she only managed to collect some things she had on a list. The rest of the day, she sort of drifted from room to room. There are so many pictures of all of them hanging everywhere, so I spent the day packing those up for her. She took a few things from the children's rooms and spent the rest of the day crying, and after that, she'd get up every now to go find something she remembered. Tuesday, she sat on the bed in the master bedroom most of the day, looking around the room. Today, she's packed a few boxes; her jewelry, things out of the safe, John's awards and certificates, some files where she kept the children's art and awards and their refrigerator art. But she called an estate auction house, and she's speaking to them now, so I assume she's going to have them sell the rest."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea just yet. Maybe you can suggest she call David and discuss it with him before she decides."

"That's an excellent idea, Trapper. I'll do that."

"When are you planning to come back up?"

"We're leaving tomorrow around noon, so that will put us back there around seven tomorrow evening. I'll be back at work Friday."

"Thank goodness. Dottie's driving me nuts," he grumbled. "Would you remind Leah she has appointments with Gonzo and David Friday? I'm afraid she might decide to hide at home after this."

"I will. Hold on just a minute." There was a pause with muffled voices in the background. "Trapper, Leah wants to speak with you."

Creasing his brow, he removed his glasses and laid them on the desk. "She does?"

"Yes, hold on."

"Trapper?"

"Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

Her voice was faint and unsteady. "I'm afraid I'm not getting much done."

"You knew it would be hard," he said in a deep, calming voice. "The house has been there for awhile. There's no reason it can't wait until you're better able to deal with it."

"I am dealing with it. I just spoke to a representative from an auction house that will come in and inventory everything, so I'll have a list. They'll ship everything to storage in San Francisco, and then I can take my time going through the list. That way, I can go ahead and put the house on the market."

"That's probably a good idea, but I have to admit; I didn't think you'd be thinking so clearly."

She snorted. "I'm really not when it comes to the things they left behind. But I'm paying a mortgage on a house I have no intention of ever seeing or living in again. I don't have to be completely coherent to know that."

"Ernie said you'll be home tomorrow evening. Do you want some company?"

She was quiet for a moment before she answered and even then, her voiced was subdued. "Trapper…you have to stop rescuing me from this. I need to go through it all, however bad it might be."

"You don't have to go through it alone," he quietly replied.

"I have appointments Friday. I'll see you then, okay? Trapper?"

Puckering his lips, he decided he shouldn't push it, especially over the phone. "I'll see you Friday."

"Bye," she whispered and hung up the phone.

Trapper looked at the receiver and hovered it over the cradle of the phone for a second before he let it drop. He stared at it for a moment, and then got up and slowly fixed himself a cup of coffee.

Thursday evening, Ernie helped Leah move boxes from her car into her apartment. "Where shall we put these?" asked Ernie, standing in the door with a box in her arms.

"Over here, I think. Next to the laundry room," Leah answered as she set a smaller box on the floor against a wall."

Setting the box she carried down, Ernie said, "I'll go bring up another."

"That's alright, Ernie. I'll get one of the boys in the complex to help. There's really only one more that I don't want to leave in the car, and it's small."

The two ladies walked back down to the parking lot, and stopped at Ernie's car. After unlocking her car door, Ernie turned and gave Leah a long, concerned look. "Are you sure you'll be alright this evening? I can stay for awhile."

"Thanks for going with me, Ernie. I'll be alright. I'm just going to relax, and then go to bed early. I have to be at the hospital at eight tomorrow morning."

"I still don't feel like I did much for you."

"Believe it or not, you did just by telling me what you went through after Muncie died. The first time I walked around the house, I couldn't see how I was going to let anything go, but as we went through it all, you talked about what you did first, and then what you ended up doing, and that made all the difference in the world. It made me think in the long term and stop dwelling on what I'd lost. I can't keep everything. I know it. And there's really no reason to. It'll just sit in a storage unit until I'm old and gray, and then it will become someone else's problem…only there's no one else to inherit it." Stepping forward, she hugged Ernie, and Ernie returned the hug just as tightly.

"Come by the nurse's station tomorrow and let me know how your appointments went."

"I will. Listen, if you happen to talk to Trapper, tell him I'm okay. I have a feeling he's going to look for an excuse to drop by, and I'd rather not have any company tonight."

Stepping into her car, Ernie closed the door and rolled down the window, taking Leah's hand and squeezing it. "I'll tell him when he calls. I'm sure he will."

Leah waved as Ernie backed her car out of the parking space and left the lot. Opening her car door, she took out a small box, locked the car and climbed the stairs to her apartment. She set the box on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and then went back to throw the bolts, but stopped midway at the sound of a knock on her door.

Bending her head so that her forehead met the door, she took a moment to take a deep breath, and blow it out slowly. "Who is it?" she asked in an annoyed tone of voice.

"It's Mark. I just wanted to see how you're doing, and if you need anything."

She let her head fall backward and looked up at the ceiling, laughing to herself in frustration. Turning the bolts much harder than she had just thrown them, she stopped for another calming breath before she opened the door, and managed to present a smile. "I'm fine, Mark, and I have everything I need. I was just going to relax; reflect for a little while and then go to bed."

"Are you angry with me?"

Closing her eyes, she realized she was stiff as a board and let her shoulders drop a little. "No, I'm not angry with you. Come on in." She stepped aside, holding the door open while Mark entered. "Have a seat," she said, motioning toward the sofa. After she closed the door, she settled in front of him, sitting on the coffee table with her legs crossed, and leaning forward with her arms loosely crossed on her knee. "Mark," she started, scratching her neck before she looked up at him, "Your feelings have put both of us in an awkward position. I don't like the uneasiness that's developed between us. I considered you my best friend; someone I could talk to about anything."

"But you don't now?"

"How can I, knowing how you feel about me? Some of the things I might say to you could hurt you, and maybe I've already hurt you. But Mark, _we_ would never work. I may only be a few years older than you, but I'm much older mentally and emotionally. At your age, you should be thinking about a wife and having children. I'm way beyond that." Bowing her head, she said sadly, "Even if I could start over, I don't see that it's possible. Having lost my children, I don't think I would ever risk that kind of hurt again by bringing more children into the world."

"You don't know that. It could just be too soon."

"You're not hearing me. I can't. Heart recipients don't have children. It's too risky. And even if I was inclined to do so, I simply can't. I had my tubes tied a couple of years back. Besides that, you should be going out and having a life beyond what you do for a living. The longer you wait on me, the more time you've lost. You'll be waiting on me until we're both too old and decrepit to do anything but sit in a rocker all day. And then, there's your job. Do you really want to be working for me the rest of your life just so you can stay close? You're ready to do it all on your own. You don't need me anymore."

Mark sat still, just listening with his head slowly lowering. He looked back up into her eyes. "Am I hearing that one of us will be leaving?"

"No. Not immediately. But when this implementation is done, I'm recommending that you be given your own project and your own staff."

"That'll put us in different cities."

"Well, we can call…or write. But I won't be seeing you under any circumstance other than as friends or co-workers."

Mark nodded and stood. "I'll take what I can get." Walking toward the door, he stopped and turned. "I know you won't like this question, but I have to know. If Dr. McIntyre wasn't in the picture would it be different?"

She laughed. "If we only had a crystal ball." Walking to him, she took his hands in hers. "No. Whatever I feel for Dr. McIntyre, and I have no idea what that is…sometimes it's frightening more than anything…anyway, whatever that is, it wouldn't change that fact that I don't have those kinds of feelings for you. I do love you, but not that way. And if you think about it, it just supports what I told you about where each of us is in our lives. He's older, he's mature, he's settled, and his children are in college."

"He's like John was."

Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked away for a moment. "Not quite. John and I were still very much involved with our children and were going to be for some time. Our extracurricular activities were designed around them. Besides having each other, our children were our lives. Dr. McIntyre is beyond that."

"He's John, and he's safe." Her brows creased. Her confidence, shaken. "Look, I'm not saying this for the sake of this conversation, but more so for you to think about what _is_ right for you. Are you prepared to give up what you currently do for children? And if not, is he going to stick around when he realizes he has to share you?" He bent down and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you in the next couple of days. You look good. I'm betting Dr. Gates will release you to come back to work," he said as he walked through the door, closing it behind him.

Leah threw the bolts again and leaned back against the door. She hadn't really considered where things were going with Trapper. Maybe it was time she did.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Friday morning, Trapper stood at the window looking out as Ernie told him about the past week. "Maybe I should come back later. You seem a little preoccupied."

He grimaced and waved her back down in her chair as he sat down in his desk chair. "I heard every word you said. It's just that there's nothing I can do about any of it."

Standing, Ernie replied, "Unfortunately, there's not much any of us can do. She has to handle it in her own way. She's coming in today. Why don't you talk to her?"

"Hm? I'll do that." When Ernie left, he got back up and looked out his window. Leah was just arriving.

Leah walked through the front door of the hospital and looked at her watch. Her appointment with Dr. Sandler wasn't for another half hour, so she went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. There, sitting at the same table as before, she saw Mike Jones, but this time, instead of hanging his head, he was reading a newspaper and actually drinking his coffee. "Hello," she said, standing next to the table.

"Hello," he answered with a smile. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you," she said as she took a seat. "You look better."

"My son…he's off the ventilator, and he's awake. Well, some of the time. He's still on pain medication."

"And what does his doctor say?"

"He says it appears that Marcus will make a full recovery…except, of course, he can't grow back his kidney, but he says people go on with one kidney all the time." His mood saddened. "Marcus hasn't chosen to believe him."

She looked at her watch again. "I have an appointment in a little while, but I'd like to see Marcus, if you don't mind. Maybe I can offer some words of encouragement. Kids tend to listen to anyone…everyone… other than their parents."

When Mike and Leah walked into Marcus' room, he was looking toward the window. "Marcus," called his father. The child didn't respond. "There's someone here to see you." Marcus turned his head toward the door, looked at Leah, and then dropped his eyes.

"Hi, Marcus. My name is Leah." She waited, but his demeanor didn't change. "What's got you so down? Your dad tells me you're on your way to being all better. You have getting out of this hospital to look forward to."

"It doesn't make a difference if I can't do the things I used to," he mumbled.

"Ah, I see. You know what I did last weekend? I went deep sea fishing."

"Something I'll never be able to do."

"Really? Why do you think that?"

"Because I only have one kidney. And my lung is weak. I can't do those kinds of things anymore. "

Walking to the other side of the bed and standing between Marcus and the window, she crooked her finger at Mike, beckoning him closer to the other side of the bed. She leaned over to look Marcus in the eye. "I'm going to let you both in on a little secret." Turning her back to them, she raised her shirt and showed them the scar across one side of her back. "This is a lot like what your incision will look like when it's healed."

Marcus looked up to her face, and blinked, then looked back at her scar before he looked over at his father. "You mean they took your kidney, too?"

"That's not all they took. She turned around and unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse, revealing the tops of the vertical scars on her chest. "They took my heart, too, and gave me someone else's."

Trapper had just entered Marcus' CICU room, but hearing a familiar voice, he stopped just on the other side of the curtain.

"And that's not all. I broke my hip, and my collar bone, my arm, and a couple of ribs, _and_ those injured my lung which collapsed…several times before they could keep it inflated," she said, running her finger over the bandages around his torso and smiling. "And I went deep sea fishing last weekend. And I might just go hike up a mountain this weekend. Or go ride a bike on the beach. That is, if my doctor releases me. "You see, I had open heart surgery just a little while before the bus accident."

Marcus' mouth was wide open and his father was grinning ear to ear. "Really? You aren't lying, are you?" Marcus asked with a smile.

That was Trapper's cue to step in. "She's not lying," he said, grinning. "Every word she said is true, except maybe what she's going to do this weekend," he said with narrowed eyes on her. "Dr. Gates hasn't released her yet."

"The point," said Leah, "is that you need to start taking getting better seriously because you still have a lot of basketball games ahead of you. Okay?"

"Okay!" he said excitedly.

"Now, I have an appointment, so I have to go. But don't you be giving Dr. McIntyre any trouble. I'll find out if you do," she said, pointing at him.

Mike stepped around the curtain with her while Trapper stayed to examine Marcus. "Leah, I don't even know your last name. But thank you. I haven't seen him smile since he woke up."

"You're a lucky man, Mike. Take care of him." She smiled and left for her appointment.

Still smiling, Mike shook his head and watched her go before he stepped back around the glass, where Dr. McIntyre had just finished looking at Marcus' abdominal incision. "The redness has faded, but I want to keep some antibiotic ointment on it just to be sure. I'm leaving instructions for the nurses to get you out of that bed and into a wheelchair so you can move yourself to your new room. You, young man," he said, ruffling Marcus' hair, "are being paroled from maximum security." Looking up at his father, he added, "Mike, I'll stop by after he's settled just to make sure he doesn't jar anything in his new wheels."

"Thank you, Dr. McIntyre," Mike said, grinning. "And would you thank Leah for us?"

"I'm sure you'll have a chance to thank her yourself. If I know her, she'll be looking in on you," he answered, smiling down at Marcus.

Leah thought it odd that she had to wait in Dr. Sandler's waiting room for her appointment. She expected to see someone come out before she went in, but when he opened the door, inviting her in, no one left. She stepped inside and stopped as Dr. Sandler closed the door behind her. She hadn't expected anyone else to be in the office.

The man stood and approached her with his hand extended. "Leah, it's so good to see you again. You're looking well."

She knew her hand felt limp in his hand, but at the moment it didn't matter. "Albert. It has been awhile." She felt numb. It was as if the whole nightmare had suddenly come back with a blinding force. When Dr. Sandler realized she was swaying, he took her arms and guided her to a chair.

Taking the seat next to her, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"I don't know yet."

"In one of our earlier sessions, you expressed some anger toward John; that it appeared he had made arrangements to ensure that if something happened to both of you, you were to be saved if a choice had to be made. You mentioned John's attorney. I asked Mr. Shaeffer if he could meet with us to discuss that."

"Leah, I'm sorry it's taken me this long to get here, but if I can help, I'm happy to."

She covered her mouth with her hand. "Talk about a blindside…Dr. Sandler, I don't know if I can…"

"Dr. Sandler shared your thoughts with me about John's will and the decisions that were made. Let me explain what happened, and then if you have questions, I'll answer them as best I can. There was nothing specific in John's will about survival of a tragedy like yours. In fact, John's will was pretty standard and straight-forward. Upon his death, you inherited everything. The will also set up a trust that would pay all legal and accounting fees in regard to the properties and investments for the rest of your life and would pass the same down to the children."

"Then where did this business about giving me John's heart come from?" she said angrily.

"Leah, John and I were friends for many years; even before you were married. We'd discussed at length what he wanted for you and the children if something happened to him many times. When the children were brought in, they were already gone. There was nothing I could do for them. And when they brought John in, the first thing they asked me was if he had signed a donor card. They did that because he was already brain dead. I couldn't do anything for him. But you, Leah, you were still alive even though you were in bad shape. They had to resuscitate you in the helicopter on the way to the hospital, and then while they were trying to stabilize you, they had to do it again. Once they finally got you stabilized, you went to the operating room and died on the table, and somehow, they were able to get your heart started again. They told me your heart wouldn't survive another defibrillation, and that's when all the fighting for John's heart started.

The people who handled organ donations acted prematurely and had already found a match for John's heart from the waiting list. They had contacted that person's doctor, who in turn, contacted the proposed recipient. They were stopped for awhile when I refused to sign the forms, and when they decided they didn't need my permission because John had signed a donor card, I went to court to halt the transfer because you needed a heart. By some twist of fate, John was a match for you, and you got it. The hospital's legal team had already determined that you had first right to his heart, so they went ahead with the transplant. There were several lawsuits after that, but they ended quickly."

"Why would you think I'd want to go on without them?" she asked, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

"John had always told me that you kept him young. You were always so happy; so full of life. I had always told John that if something like this happened, I'd do what I could. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do; the best thing to do. John would have wanted you to go on, but he never imagined that something might happen to the children at the same time."

Standing, Leah walked to David's window and looked out for several minutes before she turned around. Even though her face was wet with tears, she smiled. "I know that time wasn't the easiest time for you, Albert. You did the best you could under the circumstances. Thank you."

Leah and Albert shared a warm embrace before he left. "Call me if you need anything," he said. "Anything at all."

When the door closed, Dr. Sandler stood and put his hands in his pockets. "We have a few more minutes. Do you want to talk about the house?"

She snorted. "You were right. I called an auction house that will take inventory, give me a list and then put everything in storage here in San Francisco. I brought a few things home, some of which I have no idea what I'm going to do with. But the house will be empty so I can sell it."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do with it?"

"Yes," she said definitively.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

The one thing Trapper hated about his job, other than losing a patient, was the endless paperwork that came with the Chief of Surgery title. Any excuse to walk away from the piles of charts he had to review was always welcome. Today it came in the form of a phone call. "Trapper, I'm on speakerphone with Dr. Reyes from pediatrics. We'd like a consult on a unique case. Frankly, we have several options and none of them are great. Can you join us in the conference room up in pediatrics?"

"Pediatrics and gynecology is an odd combination. I can't wait. I'm on my way." Entering the room, he nodded to the two doctors sitting at the conference room table. Dr. Howard Davies, from Obstetrics and Gynecology stood, shook Trapper's hand and introduced him to Dr. Angela Reyes from pediatrics. "Let me guess," said Trapper. You have a female child with reproductive problems. Somehow, that just doesn't sound right."

Dr. Davies slid the child's chart across the table. "Her name is Maria Sanchez. She's six years of age, and her follicles are developing."

"What?" said Trapper with some disbelief in his voice. "We've seen some fairly young adolescents enter menarche, but not a six-year-old. "Did you check her pituitary?"

The two doctors looked at each other and smiled. "Dr. McIntyre, Dr. Davies said you were good, but I didn't expect you to come up with the answer immediately," said Dr. Reyes in a moderate Hispanic accent. "She has a gonadotrophic adenoma that's causing the production of high levels of FSH, but normal levels of LH for a six-year-old."

"Which means none," said Trapper. "So if her follicle stimulating hormones are high, she's producing eggs, but with a lower LH, the follicles don't release them. Polycystic ovaries." Dr. Reyes nodded. "How long has this been happening?"

"Her parents just brought her in early this week with symptoms of a kidney infection and abdominal pain. They said she's been nauseated for the last week and thought she had a bug, but that was the first they had noticed any problems. What we found was hydronephrosis of her left kidney. Her ovary condition has been there for some time because the membrane that turns the follicles into cysts has made her ovaries grow to four times their normal size," said Dr. Davies.

"The ovary is blocking the ureter?"

"That's right, Dr. McIntyre," said Dr. Reyes. "The reason we asked you for a consult is that we have to determine in what order to correct all the problems. Removing the tumor is the long term solution, but she's in danger of the ureter rupturing. There's also the possibility of irreversible kidney damage. And then, there are her ovaries. Can we save them or will she become infertile."

Leaning back in his chair, Trapper took a deep breath. "Things never get easier around here, do they? All right. She can live a productive life without a kidney, and she can still have children without one of her ovaries. Is there any sign of blockage on the right side?"

Dr. Davies took the chart that Trapper slid back over the table. "No. Not yet, but if the ovary continues to grow, there will be. We have to do something fairly quickly."

"How close are we to the same problem on the other side?"

"We can slow the growth of the other ovary by puncturing the cysts and releasing the eggs. That should give her time to recover from surgery sufficiently before we remove the adenoma and allow the hormones to rebalance," Davies answered.

Resting his clasped hands on his chin, Trapper thought a moment before he gave them his opinion. "Of course, it will depend on the condition of the kidney when you go in, but if it can be saved, I'd take the ovary."

Dr. Reyes and Dr. Davies both let out a relieved breath. "Thank you, Trapper," said Dr. Davies. "We wanted another opinion before we proceeded."

"Howard, I wouldn't mind seeing this first hand. Do you have an assistant yet?"

Dr. Davies smiled. "No, I don't. I still have to discuss this with the parents before I schedule it. I'll let you know when as soon as I can."

"Sounds good." Trapper leaned over the table, offering his hand to Dr. Reyes. "Doctor, it was nice to meet you." Turning to Howard, he took his hand and clasped his arm. "Howard, it's been awhile since I've assisted you. I'm looking forward to it."

Trapper walked into his office in a sour mood, stopping to look at the two people on his sofa before he closed the door. His silence on his way to his desk and continuing after he took his seat, caused Gonzo and Leah to look warily at one another. "You want to ask him, or should I?" asked Leah, looking at Gonzo first, then cutting her eyes over to Trapper.

"We've got a six-year-old girl with polycystic ovaries," he grumbled.

"You're kidding," said Gonzo. "Pituitary?"

Trapper nodded.

"What does that mean…polycystic ovaries?" asked Leah.

"It means she's producing eggs, but she's not ovulating, so the follicles become cysts that increase the size of the ovaries." Moving his glasses from his head to his eyes, he added, "We have to take the ovary."

"Poor kid," lamented Leah. "That's probably a restricted surgery. You need to make sure you get Slocum's approval before you do the surgery." Trapper kept his nose buried in a chart. "Trapper, did you hear me?"

"I heard," he answered crankily.

Standing, Leah headed for the door. "Well, I was going to see if you were available for lunch, but considering your frame of mind, I think I'll just go."

Raising his head, Trapper hurried out of his chair and around his desk, grabbing her hand. "I'm sorry," he apologized, covering her hand with his other hand and putting on a smile. "Lunch sounds wonderful; just the thing to take my mind off a child with reproductive issues."

"I hope you don't mind. I asked Gonzo to join us."

Smiling sweetly at her, he turned to Gonzo with the same smile, but menacing eyes. "Why not?"

Going through the line, Gonzo carefully watched what Leah put on her tray; two boiled eggs, a bowl of cut melons and grapes, and a container of milk. "Is that all you're eating?" he asked.

"I don't have that many good choices here," she said. "I don't usually eat beef, and their chicken here is like jerky. The fish is overcooked because it sits under those hot lights, and their vegetables are hit and miss. And I don't want a salad."

Once they were all seated, Trapper looked at her tray. "What's wrong with her food?"

"She's anemic."

Trapper looked skeptically at him. "She had fresh crab, fresh salmon, fresh lobster, and vegetables along with it last week. How can she be anemic?" Twisting her mouth and bowing her head, she wished she could disappear.

"Ask her what she ate before you took her fishing…and over the weekend." Both men looked expectantly at her.

"I haven't had an appetite with everything that's been happening, that's all," she said, looking down at her plate. She grudgingly took a bite of fruit.

"You're not going back to work until your blood work is normal." Gonzo lifted his sandwich for a bite. "That's three square meals a day," he said with a mouthful.

"When's your next appointment?" asked Trapper.

She frowned. "Friday. How am I going to change it by then?"

"Stick with me, kiddo," said Trapper, grinning.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

Trapper stood at the nurse's station laughing with Ernie and Gloria about the fishing trip when they heard him paged, "Dr. McIntyre call pediatrics. Dr. McIntyre call pediatrics."

Ernie dialed and handed the receiver to Trapper. "This is Dr. McIntyre. I was paged. Damn!" he swore under his breath. Trapper handed the receiver back to Ernie and turned toward the elevator.

"Who is it?" asked Gloria.

"It's the Sanchez girl," he said when he turned around after stepping into the elevator.

When he arrived in pediatrics, a nurse directed him straight to Maria's room where her mother and father stood in a corner, obviously upset. Dr. Davies was already there examining the child. "Trapper, feel this," he said, referring to her abdomen. As Trapper palpated her abdomen, Dr. Davies continued. "When the nurse came in, her temperature was already elevated, so this started between about eleven last night and around five this morning."

Feeling the rigidity, Trapper responded, "We can't wait. She's got urine spilling into her abdomen, and if we don't get in there and stop it, we'll be dealing with sepsis."

"I'll get it scheduled on an emergency basis," said Dr. Davies.

Turning to leave, Trapper said, "I'll go change. Call Ernie and let her know which OR."

Howard nodded, and turned to Maria's parents for their consent.

As Trapper came out of his private bathroom wearing his scrubs, Ernie walked into his office. "Dr. Davies called. He's having trouble getting Maria's surgery scheduled because it's a restricted surgery."

"True. We don't do oophorectomies on a six-year-olds. Tell him to call Arnold to approve it."

"Arnold is on a yacht somewhere in the Pacific Ocean with a group of his cronies."

"Well, can we contact him?"

"His secretary is trying, but so far, no luck."

"Tell Howard to send someone to all the departments to get what he needs."

"The department's procedures don't allow them to accept anything anymore without the proper authorization codes. I'm sure _you_ can go to all of them, but that could take hours, Trapper."

Grabbing his receiver, he dialed Mark Hansen's extension. "Mark. Dr. McIntyre. I need your help."

"You need _my_ help," said Mark contemptuously.

Hearing the disdain in Mark's voice, Trapper breathed in heavily through his nose. "Your _system_ is preventing us from saving a little girl's life. Knock that chip off your shoulder and get your ass up here. Now!" He slammed the phone down and glared toward Ernie.

She turned to leave. "Remember, Trapper. You catch more flies with honey."

Mark was there in a matter of minutes. "Mark, I don't have time for chest-thumping over a woman. Right now, I have a little girl who is going to die soon if we can't get her into surgery. It's a restricted surgery, and Slocum isn't available to authorize it, so I need you to tell me how to get around your system."

Glowering for a moment, Mark decided that, indeed, a child's life was more important right now than his dislike for one of Leah's surgeons. "Let me think for a minute." Pacing back and forth in front of Trapper's desk, he thought aloud. "I have access to Slocum's authorization codes. But it has to be accompanied by his ID, and I don't have his password and his passkey. I could reset his password, but I have no way of knowing his passkey. So what in the system triggers a surgery restriction? An edit between the surgery codes and the patient's age. Can't change the codes, but can I change the age? The age comes from the eligibility files from the fed or the insurance company and gets stored on the database. The upload occurs every night…" he raised his head and went to Trapper's computer, sitting in Trapper's chair.

Trapper had watched and listened as Mark went through his thought process; a process that seemed logical and productive to Trapper, so he didn't interrupt. Now he stood behind Mark, watching over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"I think if I can edit the age in the database and resubmit the request, it will bypass the surgical restriction logic. It's not working though. It won't let me change the date of birth to something older." He stopped and thought again. "I can't space it out, because it's a numeric field. But…we have zeros on the database now for patients who have just been entered, but haven't been in the system long enough to retrieve the eligibility in the nightly batch cycle. Trapper watched him enter zeros in the date of birth field, and resubmit the request. Forgetting his anger at Trapper for a moment, he turned wearing a triumphant smile. "It worked. It's scheduled."

Trapper squeezed both of Mark's shoulders and said, "Good work, Mark," before he flew out of his office.

Reaching over for the flowers and bottle of wine in the passenger seat, Trapper checked himself in the rearview mirror of his car, stepped out and straightened his jacket. When Leah opened her apartment door at his knock, he was standing there cradling the bottle of wine in one arm, the flowers in his other arm, wearing one of the most charming smiles she had seen on him, and looking every bit the dashing, handsome Chief of Surgery of a major San Francisco hospital.

"Good evening, Dr. McIntyre. Won't you come in?"

"Formality?"

"You're the one wearing a suit jacket."

"These are for you," he said with a dimpled grin, handing her the flowers. "Where can I put my jacket?"

Heading for the kitchen to retrieve a vase, she said over her shoulder, "Hang it in the closet by the door."

She watched him remove the jacket as she arranged the flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter, admiring how he looked in his light blue, knit, v-neck shirt and gray slacks. The shirt clung to him, showing the muscle definition in his arms and chest and more of his tanned skin than she had previously seen. Smiling, she made herself blush at her next thought; how fit he looked for a fifty-one year old man.

He went into the kitchen and kissed her cheek. "Where's your corkscrew?"

"Top drawer next to the fridge," she said as she took the flowers to the table on the patio.

Looking across the cabinet as she turned on a stove burner and poured olive oil into a pan, he saw she had onion already julienned next to raw spinach and some kind of lightly floured meat sliced into strips. A pan was already simmering on a back burner, and when he brought her a glass of wine, he peeked over and found new potatoes boiling in the pot. "I see you have lots of iron here, but what's this?" he asked, pointing to the meat.

"Calves liver. I hope you like liver. I didn't think to ask."

"I'm sure it will be fine," he said with a tentative smile.

With wide eyes, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I can fix something else."

But when she started to take the pan off the burner, he put a hand on her arm and stopped her, smiling. "I'm willing to try it. I don't believe I've ever had liver prepared this way. Besides that, with the amount of iron in liver, it's just what the doctor ordered." He edged closer. "Ah…listen. I don't mean to be indelicate, especially while you're cooking dinner, but are you having any other…problems…since you've been getting more iron?"

She chuckled quietly while moving the onions to the pan. "I won't be embarrassed if you won't. Yes, earlier in the week. But I started drinking more water and that seems to have done the trick."

"Good. Now, what are you doing this weekend?"

"Well, I thought I'd look for another car. I'm going to sell the Mustang."

Setting his wine glass on the counter, he took the spatula she was using to stir the onions out of her hand, then took both hands in his and turned her to face him. "Are you sure you want to do that? Besides being John's baby, that car…" he chuckled and shook his head, "…is a really nice car."

She turned up the corner of her mouth. "You interested?"

Looking away for a moment, he wore an engrossed smile and a furrowed brow as he entertained the idea, but laughed as he shook his head. "No. Maybe when I was younger, but not now."

"Oh, come on. It is fun to drive."

"I have a motorcycle when I want to have that kind of fun."

She huffed and turned back to her pan. "What was that remark about being younger?"

Changing the subject, he said, "I'll make you a deal. I'll go with you to look at cars…" Stepping behind her, moving his arms under hers and clasping his hands in front, he finished, "…if you'll accompany me to the symphony Saturday evening." Propping his chin on her shoulder, he cocked his head so he could see her face from the side. "You're eyes are smiling. Does that mean 'yes'?"

Leaning with his arm on the half-wall of the deck, Trapper watched as Leah looked up to the night sky. "That was the best liver I've ever had."

She snorted. "I would be inclined to think you were lying if you hadn't had seconds." She turned to face him. "Thank you. Thank you for the whole week. I just hope it works." Closing her eyes, she said, "I would love to hear Dr. Gates tell me I could go back to work on Monday."

"Do you feel any different?"

She nodded. "Oh yes. I'm not as tired, and I'm not dragging myself to bed at nine o'clock at night."

"That's good. The symphony doesn't end their performance until around ten."

They looked at each other for a moment, and this time Leah closed the gap, stepping closer, but not stepping into him. He moved his hand around her waist and drew her the rest of the way in. Studying her eyes; eyes that didn't move away, he couldn't find the reluctance he had seen before, but rather cautious acceptance.

As if reading his thoughts, she leaned against him. "It's not that I don't think about John when we're close. I do in a sad sort of way. But I don't feel guilty anymore. I don't feel like I'm cheating."

Moving closer, so that his nose was beside hers, he gave her a small kiss. When he felt her hands move up his arms, he kissed her lightly again, and again, staying close, waiting for her to grant him access, and when she did, he took full advantage.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

Gonzo stood at Trapper's office window, watching as Trapper and Leah walked with an arm around each other from Trapper's car to the hospital. When Trapper entered his office, he stopped, looked at Gonzo standing at the window, and then proceeded to his desk, laying his briefcase down before he removed his jacket.

Moving his hands to his hips, Gonzo glared. "Trapper? I saw you and Leah get out of your car and walk into the hospital with an arm around each other."

Trapper shrugged on his white coat, smiled and shook his head. "Not that it's any of your business, but it's not what you think. I left her place last night before eleven and picked her up this morning for her appointment because you haven't released her to drive."

"It is my business. She's my patient."

Looking at his watch, Trapper matched his aggravated tone of voice. "If she's your patient, you'd better get out of here. You have an appointment with her in three minutes."

"Fine," said Gonzo, heading for the door. "But if I find…"

Creasing his brow, Trapper interrupted him. "Dr. Gates. Go examine your patient, and if you find a problem, let me know."

Gonzo found Leah at the nurse's station. "Gloria, would you call Dr. Sandler and ask him to come to exam room four. I'd like his opinion as to whether Ms. Haverty is ready to go back to work."

"Yes, doctor."

"Now Leah, if you'll come with me, I'll take a look at your incision before Dr. Sandler gets here, and then we can start on your blood work."

Following Gonzo into the exam room, she waited at the door before she sat on the examination table as she normally would. "What's wrong, Dr. Gates?"

With his attention on her chart, he answered without looking up. "Why would there be anything wrong?"

"I don't know, but you're a little short today, and it has nothing to do with your physical stature."

He looked up with a defiant smile. "Speaking of being short, are we sliding back into our old ways?"

She puffed up into her old rigid posture as if she was being challenged. "Dr. Gates, let's not play games. If your aggravation has anything to do with me, I want to know about it."

"All right, he said, setting the chart down on the exam table, and then leaning on it. "I think Dr. McIntyre could be jeopardizing your recovery."

She let out a short, loud laugh, throwing her head back in astonishment. "Let me tell you what Dr. McIntyre has done for me. He's gotten me out of my apartment where I used to do nothing but work, sleep and sulk, and into the sunshine. He helped me with my diet so that today's blood work would show that the anemia is gone. He's taught me how to laugh again, and he's unselfishly helping me to emotionally accept the fact that my husband is gone. And I say unselfishly, because he's sacrificing his own emotional well-being to do that, given the outcome is uncertain." She curtly handed him the chart before she sat down hard on the exam table. "Why don't you stick to my physical condition and let Dr. Sandler worry about my emotional condition?"

"Fine," he barked. "Unbutton your blouse."

She complied. Pressing the scarred over area, he asked if it was tender. "A little, but nothing like it was. It's more like the feeling of new skin on any scar."

"Let's get your echo done before Dr. Sandler comes in."

Still fuming, she said, "If you don't mind, Dr. Gates, I'd rather do that Monday morning. I can come in before work."

"Why wait? And what makes you think I'm releasing you today?"

"You'll have no reason not to release me once Dr. Sandler is here. And at the moment, I don't feel like letting you run your hands all over my chest," she said angrily.

"All right then, let's get your blood work done. The phlebotomist ought to be here by now." Just as he finished his sentence, she knocked on the door. When she had taken enough blood, she left as Dr. Sandler entered.

"Leah, Dr. Gates. The air in this room is thick," he remarked, stopping just inside the door enough that the door could close behind him. "What's going on?"

"I think that Dr. McIntyre might be…moving too fast," said Gonzo calmly, but finishing quickly.

"Moving too fast?" yelled Leah.

Sandler held his hands up. "There's no reason to yell. Dr. Gates is just concerned, as am I. So Dr. Gates; what do you mean by moving too fast?"

Shaking his head, Gonzo turned away in frustration, but turned right back. "David, he took her out overnight on a fishing boat, and he's seen her every evening this week. He was with her last night, and they came in this morning together."

"Oh, and let's not forget he's going with me to look for a new car, and he's taking me to the symphony this weekend," she added sarcastically, crossing her arms. "You know, Dr. Gates, you sound _jealous_, though I have no idea why. I'm not sure I even like you right now."

"I'm not jealous," he said loudly. "I'm worried that you're taking on too much too soon."

Leah looked away as Dr. Sandler stepped forward with his hands in his pockets, leaning to see her face. "Are you?"

"Am I what?" she snapped.

"Are you taking on too much too soon?"

Deflating, she turned to Dr. Sandler, and lowered her eyes. "No," she answered softly. "I don't think I am." Wringing her hands, she continued, "Look, you're both his friend. I don't feel comfortable talking about him behind his back."

"We're not talking about him. We're talking about you," said David.

"All right. Maybe I have some emotional attachment to Trapper. But he's not…pushing. And he makes sure I know where my head is before he does anything. When we went out on the boat, he taught me how to fish from a fighting chair, we had fresh fish and lobster that we caught for dinner, we played our guitars, and we talked. We even talked about John. He said I should remember all the good times regardless of where I was or what I was doing in the present. It was very…friendly, and it was the first time…" she smiled. "It was the first time I really enjoyed myself without feeling like I shouldn't because John and the kids weren't there. It was fun. Is that so bad?"

"No. Not at all."

She continued quietly. "When I'm with him lately, it's not that I don't think about John. I do, but it's more in terms of letting him go than feeling guilty. Trapper makes me feel…human…again."

Sandler turned to Gonzo. "She's probably saner than the rest of us. I see no reason from a mental and emotional perspective why she can't go back to work." He looked back at Leah. "With normal hours."

Conceding, Gonzo shrugged while a smile formed. He let out a slow breath. "Are you going to stay to hear the results of your blood tests?"

"Yes," she said without a hint of anger in her voice, jumping down off the table. "I have a young man to see who's going home in a few days. I'm having lunch with Trapper before he takes me home, and I'm going down to my office to tell them I'll be back on Monday."

"Don't forget the echo you promised Monday."

"I won't," she said, smiling. "Dr. Sandler," she said as she exited the room on her way to Trapper's office. His door was closed, so she knocked, and hearing an invitation to enter, she stepped inside. "Oh, Dr. McIntyre, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Come in, Leah. There's someone I'd like you to meet. Leah Haverty, Melanie McIntyre."

Leah smiled and offered her hand. "How do you do?"

"I'm well, thank you. I'm Trapper's wife."

A nervous smile took over Leah's face as she forced her head to turn to Trapper.

"Ex-wife," he quickly explained, smiling.

Trying not to be obvious, she let the breath out she had been holding. "Well, Mrs. McIntyre, it's nice to meet you." She turned back to Trapper. "I just need your car keys to get the gift for Marcus. I'm on my way to see him."

Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he dropped them in her waiting hand. "Come back for me. I want to see the look on the kid's face when you give it to him." She nodded, smiled and left.

"Who is she?" asked Melanie.

"She leads the team of technical people who are installing our new computer system. She's also a patient."

"Oh? What's she in for?"

"Her heart."

"So she's your patient?"

"No, she's Gonzo's patient."

"And?" He turned up one side of his mouth into a half smile and looked at her from under his brow. "John McIntyre, I've only seen that look once before." She walked over to him and kissed his cheek. "I hope it works out. Ciao," she said, smiling before she left his office.

Leah waited outside Marcus' room until Trapper came out to get her. When she entered, she couldn't help but smile. Marcus was sitting up, exercising his hand with his father's help. "Hey, are you wiggling them yet?" she asked.

Marcus shook his head. "Not wiggling yet, but watch," he said as he slowly closed his hand and opened it again.

"And you were worried you wouldn't be able to use it again. I told you Dr. McIntyre wouldn't let you down."

"How's your heart?" asked Marcus.

"It's good. If my blood tests come back normal today, I get to go back to work Monday."

"And you're happy about that?" said Marcus, looking at his father. "My dad hates his job." Mike blushed and smiled.

"I guess I'm one of those lucky people who enjoys her job, so yes, I'm happy about going back." Leah sat on the side of his bed. "Listen, I have something I wanted to give you before you go home," she said, setting the box next to him."

With wide eyes, he asked, "What is it?"

"You'll have to open it to find out," said Dr. McIntyre. "Miss Haverty made it easy, so you can get into it with one hand."

Marcus pulled the end of the big bow and flipped the top off the box. "A basketball!" he said excitedly.

Trapper took the box off the bed. "That's not just any basketball. Turn it."

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Dad, look!

When Mike looked over his mouth fell open. "Miss Haverty, he can't accept that."

Mike, hear me out before you say that," she said, turning to Marcus. "That basketball belonged to my son, JJ. He got it for his eighth birthday. You see, his father was the team doctor for the Rams, and he knew the team doctor for the Lakers really well, so he would fill in when their doctor had to be out of town. They gave him this ball in appreciation, and he gave it to JJ."

"Dad, look! Magic and Kareem signed it!"

Mike took the ball from Marcus and handed it back to Leah. "This ball is worth a lot of money. We can't accept it."

"Mike, I could never sell this ball. It's too special. The accident that killed my husband and children happened shortly after JJ's eighth birthday. If I keep it, it'll just sit in a box and collect dust. I'd rather someone have it who will appreciate it the way I know JJ would have." Holding the ball out to Mike, she added with tears in her eyes, "Please, Mike. It would give me great pleasure to know another child is enjoying this ball."

Handing it back to Marcus, Mike nodded, and the child looked at it for a minute before he held it back out to Leah. "Would you sign it for me?"

"Oh no, Marcus. That will devalue it."

"Oh, I don't want to sell it. I'm going to keep it forever. I just want to remember where it came from."

Trapper left the room and returned quickly with an indelible marker. "Here you go," he said, handing the marker to Leah.

"Are you sure you want me to do this? This ball is already very special like it is."

"I'm sure."

She wrote, in four lines, _From JJ to Marcus; Never give up; With much love; Leah Haverty Lewis_.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

Knocking on the door, Trapper didn't wait for an answer before tried the knob. "Leah?" he called, sticking his head in the door. When he heard her voice call from the bedroom, he walked to the cracked bedroom door. "Are you decent?"

"Yes. Come on in." She turned to see him enter with his tuxedo on a hanger in one hand and his dress shoes and toiletry bag in the other. "Are you moving in, Dr. McIntyre?" she asked with an amused smile.

"No. I just thought it would give us more time if we need it if we didn't have to go to two different places to dress for the symphony."

"Good idea. Closet's through there," she said, pointing at a door.

He disappeared through the door for only a minute and returned. "Do you have any idea what kind of car you want?"

"No," she snickered, pulling her hair back in a ponytail and looking in the mirror one last time. When she turned, his arms wrapped around her.

"Then I suggest we go to a used car lot," he said, just before he kissed her.

"Hm. Hm," she giggled. "But I don't want a used car."

Turning her toward the front door with his arm around her, he replied, "Yes, but a used car lot usually has a big selection of different makes, models and manufacturers, so you can get an idea of what you want, and then we can look at new cars."

She dropped her car keys in his hand when they walked out the door. "What's this for?"

"We can take my car, so I can trade it in when I find something."

"Oh no. You'll never get what that car is worth as a trade in. You need to do a private party sale."

"How do I do that?"

"You list it in the classifieds," he answered, opening her car door for her, and holding her hand as she stepped in.

While Leah dressed in her bedroom, Trapper got into his tuxedo in the living area. Even so, the bedroom door was open so they could hear each other. "I don't see why I couldn't go ahead and buy it," she said loudly so he could hear her.

He laughed as he struggled with his tie. "I just thought you needed to think about it. It was quite a departure from what you're used to."

"Dr. McIntyre, what you think I'm used to isn't my car. I'm really not particularly comfortable in it. It attracts too much attention," she said, lowering her voice as she walked into the living area. "I don't care for all the young kids trying to get me to race at traffic lights either." Trapper didn't say anything. He simply gazed at her reflection in the mirror over the small entry table. "Are you having trouble with your tie?" she said, stepping against his arm and moving her hand across his back. "Turn around. Let me help."

"Midnight blue is your color. You look stunning." His compliment came with an admiring look.

"Hush. Hold your chin up. It's been awhile since I've done this," she said, working on his bow tie. "And you look quite debonair yourself," she added with a demure smile.

Trapper wore a double-breasted black tuxedo with a matching vest and white shirt with cufflinks. She wore a silk-lined lace tank-style top with a slender shawl skirt lined in silk charmeuse and a Venice lace border hanging down to her silver cross-strapped heels that complimented the silver embroidery on the skirt. Along with her diamond and sapphire jewelry, the blue of her dress made the blue of her eyes quite prominent. To top it all off, her hair was swept up on her head and fashioned with small, dangling pin curls.

After draping her black silk shawl over her shoulders, he held his arm out to her. "Shall we go? The limo is waiting."

She grabbed her clutch off the small entry table and took his arm. "Limo?"

"Yes, my dear. This kind of luxury requires a luxury automobile."

She chuckled. "I can see why you questioned a Jeep CJ. I suppose we'd look rather odd in it tonight, wouldn't we?"

Their driver stood at the ready and opened the car door, closing it behind the couple once they were settled in the back seat. When they arrived at the hall, the driver let them out right in front, and as they entered, Trapper guided her into a room where couples dressed as elegantly as they were milling about, greeting their friends and acquaintances and sipping champagne.

Trapper introduced Leah to several of his fellow physicians and their wives, and while he talked shop, the wives coaxed her to the other side of the room where they talked about life married to a hospital doctor, especially a surgeon. Leah listened and smiled politely, remembering the way it often was with John. "Leah, Trapper said you work at the hospital. What do you do there?"

"Well, I don't really work for the hospital. My company is installing their new computer system, and I lead the team that's doing that."

"So you probably have no idea what being married to a Chief of Surgery is like. I remember John's wife, Melanie. That's why they ended up divorced. She just couldn't deal with his erratic schedule interfering with everything."

"Yes, I've met Mrs. McIntyre. She's seems happy."

"Well, just be prepared. It's an adjustment."

"I'm not so sure it's that bad. I get calls at all hours to troubleshoot problems with the system, so Dr. McIntyre and I might actually see more of each other at the hospital. Besides that, there's really nothing to be prepared for."

"Don't tell him that. He seems quite taken with you."

Flashing a quick smile, Leah excused herself and went back to Trapper, who pulled her next to him as he continued his conversation about the possibility of computer-assisted surgeries. "Everyone, this is Leah Haverty, a computer engineer. What do you think about this talk of robotic surgery?"

She cocked her head, and glared at him for bringing her into a medical conversation with no warning. Luckily, she kept up with all the advancements in computer technology. "I will tell you that several prototypes are being tested and refined now, but they're still several years away from introduction into hospitals. Once they are, you can bet that surgeries using robotics will be much more precise and less error prone. If you think about it, it makes sense. Basic instructions for many types of surgery can be pre-established with the surgeon inputting precise instructions for his specific patient. A robotic arm will carry out those instructions with exact precision where a human hand might waver, shake or otherwise be less controlled. It's just a matter of time, gentlemen, when robotics will be a part of a surgeon's daily life. In fact, at some point in the future, you might actually be doing surgeries remotely."

They all laughed. "You are joking, aren't you?"

Smiling confidently, she answered, "No. I'm not. Once I get the new system installed at San Francisco Memorial, it will already be time for an upgrade. Computer technology is advancing so quickly, that by the time you decide on computer equipment and carry it out the seller's door, it's already being replaced with the latest, greatest thing. What you just bought is obsolete in a matter of weeks, even days. I have some wiring harnesses that were new technology only a few months ago. I can't get them anymore. I have to upgrade to new ones."

"Trapper, where did you meet this young lady?"

"Leah and I met over a disputed computer…" He arched an eyebrow, and glanced down at her. "…on my desk. The computer is still there, and it's proven itself useful if we can just get used to new procedures. It forces us to follow government regulations and those rules that allow us to maintain our accreditation."

"Yes, well, I don't see how well that's going to work when we put people in that kind of position who know nothing of medical, much less surgical procedures."

Leah bit. "You'd be surprised what I know," she said with a stony gaze.

"Oliver, Leah knows more about the procedure codes from the regulatory and insurance standpoint than either one of us. And she probably knows a lot more about the procedures themselves than you think."

Still giving Oliver a hard look, she said, "Yes. I do. My last name is actually Lewis. My husband was a recognized orthopedic surgeon in the LA area."

"John Lewis?" asked Oliver.

"Yes. John Lewis. Trapper, is it time to go in?"

Nodding, Trapper bowed his head slightly. "Doctors, if you'll excuse us, we don't want to miss a single note tonight." He had gotten tickets in the center of the new symphony hall at the same level as the stage, so going in a few minutes early would prevent them from having to step in front of people already in their seats.

After they were seated, Leah leaned against Trapper, so she could speak quietly. "I apologize."

"For what?" he asked with furrowed brows.

"I was a bit short with Oliver. I hope I didn't embarrass you in front of your friends."

Trapper's mouth opened slightly as he shook his head. "Oliver is one of those doctors who doesn't even appreciate women in surgery. Strong women upset him," he said, chuckling. "But then, you're used to that, aren't you? As I understand it, there aren't many women in your industry in your position."

She twisted her mouth. "Mark told you that, didn't he?"

"Mm hm."

Straightening in her chair, she asked, "So besides the orchestra, who are we seeing tonight?"

"Luciano Pavarotti," he answered with a wide grin.

An instant broad smile appeared on her face just as the lights began to dim. "I _love_ Pavarotti," she said, perhaps a little too loudly as quiet chuckles sounded all around them. Barely in control of her excitement, she reached for Trapper's hand, entwining her fingers in his and eliciting another big smile from him.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One**

Climbing the stairs to her apartment, Leah and Trapper laughed at their conversation about the performance at the Symphony Hall. On her way to the deck, she twirled to look back at Trapper and beckoned him to follow her outside. "I can't believe it. I never thought I'd ever get to hear Luciano Pavarotti." Moving his arms around her waist, he watched her eyes, her smile, her exhilaration. "Can you believe it?" she said excitedly. "Six high Cs." Realizing he was watching her, she settled down and put her arms around his neck. "Thank you. Today was absolutely perfect."

With a chuckle, he said "You're welcome," on his way to a kiss. Looking back into her eyes, he smiled at first at her willingness to continue, but his smile was short lived. He knew this was too fast for her own good, even if she didn't. She didn't have far to go to kiss him back, and when she did, all signs of hesitation had disappeared. Her arms wrapped tightly around him as she brought herself up on her toes, her fingers tangling with the curls on the back of his head, and her kiss…he couldn't resist accepting and participating.

"I should be going," he whispered, giving her another quick kiss.

The disappointment in her eyes told him he would have to tread lightly. He couldn't deny to himself that he wanted her, but what he wanted didn't matter at this point.

"Why?" she asked, sounding almost like a little girl who couldn't understand.

Taking her hands from around his neck, he kissed them and held them against his chest. "Leah, I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say. You're caught up in the moment from a perfect day, a perfect evening, and now a perfect opportunity. Too perfect. Before I would ever think about taking advantage of the…perfectness…of the situation, I need to be absolutely sure that you aren't rushing into something you'll regret tomorrow."

She stepped back, no longer able to look him in the eye. "I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?" Trapper shook his head, but she continued. "I thought you…"

Moving a finger to her lips, he put a hand at the small of her back and drew her back into him, holding her firmly. "I do. I am. But we are not going to rush this considering where you've been. You simply need more time." She bowed her head, but he cupped her chin in his hand, bringing her face back up to his. "I'm not going anywhere." After kissing her tenderly one more time, he gathered his clothes and toiletry bag before opening the door. The way she was standing there where he'd left her, her shoulders wilting, her hands hanging limply at her sides, and the melancholy in her eyes, he had to fight the growing need within him to go back to her. "I'll call you tomorrow." She cast her eyes down, offering him a slight smile as she looked back up at him. Then he was gone.

She didn't move, thinking about what might have happened. How _would_ she have felt afterwards? She couldn't answer that question. Perhaps he was right after all.

Trapper waited in his car for her apartment to darken before he pulled out of the parking space. He wasn't sorry for leaving her tonight. He knew she wasn't ready. Smiling, he realized this was the first time he had willingly gone home to a cold shower.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

Sitting at his desk, Trapper looked up as Gonzo came into his office and went straight to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Help yourself as long as you are," Trapper said sarcastically.

Smiling aloofly, Gonzo said, "Thanks," on his way to the sofa.

"I thought you had an appointment with Leah this morning."

"I did. She's already come and gone. Well, not gone. She's in her office."

Trapper looked up. "How'd the echo look?"

"Perfect. Not even a hint of any abnormalities. But she was in a bad mood."

"Bad mood?"

"Yeah. She didn't smile, even after I plied my boyish charm. She just wanted to get it done and leave, like she had something else more important to do, only whatever it was, it didn't seem like it was anything good."

Leaning back, Trapper rubbed his chin. "Something's going on. I called her yesterday at her apartment. She didn't answer. She didn't stop by here this morning, either."

"Did you have a fight?"

"No. We had a great evening Saturday." Thinking aloud, he muttered to himself, "Only I didn't stay. She wasn't angry when I left. Maybe a little disappointed, but not mad." Standing, he resumed his conversation with Gonzo, "Maybe I should go downstairs and see what's going on." Before he rounded the desk, his telephone rang. "McIntyre."

"John, I need to see you in my conference room."

"Well, good morning to you, too, Arnold. What's up?"

"Just get up here," Arnold growled before he hung up the phone.

Trapper looked at the receiver. "I wonder what problem he has that he's about to dump on me."

Walking out with Trapper, Gonzo commented, "Everyone's in a bad mood this morning. Maybe I'll go back to the Titanic and hide." They parted company at the elevator.

When Trapper opened the door to the conference room, he stopped in his tracks. Arnold was sitting at the head of the table looking at paperwork with a scowl on his face. Leah sat on the far side of the table, her back straight as an arrow, wearing her black skirt and jacket and a white shirt. Her hair was even up in the tight bun he hadn't seen since her collapse. Sitting beside her was Mark, who looked strangely uncomfortable.

"Dr. McIntyre, sit down," barked Arnold, motioning to the chair across from Leah. "Ms. Haverty, would you please explain why we're here."

"Of course, Mr. Slocum." She leaned back in her chair and looked straight ahead of her, but avoided Trapper's eyes. Speaking calmly and matter-of-factly, she began, "My job here is to create a secure environment that enforces the policies and procedures of this hospital and the rules of the regulatory agencies that govern it. What I mean by a secure environment is that no one outside this hospital or within this hospital except those in authority, and then only following the prescribed procedures, can jeopardize the accreditation status or cause the hospital to seem complicit in any fraudulent matters. I wanted to try to catch up on my audit reports before I came in this morning, so I spent the better part of yesterday reviewing the computer activities that transpired while I was away. I was extremely disturbed to find that not only the accreditation of the hospital has been put in jeopardy, but the hospital is in danger of being accused of fraud. Our computer system has been hacked, gentlemen, and it was not from an outside source, but rather from a member of my staff and a high-ranking member of the hospital staff." She looked at Mark. "Mr. Hansen, you deliberately changed the personal health information of a patient; to be exact a date of birth. This action caused an exception in the audit reports that go to The Joint Committee, the California Department of Health, and the state Insurance Commissioner. Mr. Slocum, if you haven't already, you will be hearing from each one of those entities. They'll be breathing down your neck in a matter of days, if not hours. Dr. McIntyre, the intrusion was perpetrated on your computer, so that naturally implicates you."

"Trapper, do you have an explanation?" asked Arnold.

"There's a perfectly valid explanation," he answered coolly. "We have a patient…a six-year-old girl who required immediate surgery to remove an ovary and repair a ruptured ureter. If we hadn't performed the surgery, she would have gone septic in a matter of hours. Because it was reproductive related surgery on an underage child, it was considered restricted and required approval. The only one who could approve it was you, Arnold, but you were on a yacht somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and out of contact. I asked Mark to find a way around the system, and he did. He saved that little girl's life."

"You don't know that, Dr. McIntyre," said Leah. "You have no idea how long it would have taken for that child to become critical from sepsis. You could have waited for Arnold to contact the hospital, which he did that evening." She turned to Mark. "What did I tell you when I gave you native access to the databases?"

"You said not to put the hospital at risk."

"And what did you do?"

"Leah, what could I do? Dr. McIntyre told me this child's life depended on me finding a way around it. She would've died."

"It is not your job to protect the lives of the people in this hospital. That is the hospital's responsibility. Your job is to protect the business of this hospital…to prevent risks to its accreditation and risk of law suits."

"Now wait just a minute," said Trapper, leaning forward and glaring at Leah. "It was my job to ensure that we did what was necessary to prevent what could have led to the child's death. It was my responsibility, and _I_ did what was necessary to save her."

For the first time, she coldly looked into his eyes. "The day you came back from your consultation with her doctor, what did I tell you?"

Twisting his mouth, he let out a heavy breath and looked at her from under his brow. "You told me it was a restricted surgery, and that Arnold's approval would be required."

"So why didn't you get it when you knew it would have to be done?"

Trapper looked up at the ceiling, realizing he was the one who screwed up. If he'd listened to her then, they wouldn't be in this mess. "Arnold, I take full responsibility for this."

Leah stood. "Mr. Slocum, Dr. McIntyre is your responsibility. For our part, I'll report this to our company, and they will decide what to do for my part in this."

"You weren't even here," said Arnold, surprisingly calm, maybe even penitent.

"I gave Mark my access codes while I was out, believing he would act responsibly. I will change access to the databases to only myself for the time being until I hear from the company." She bowed her head, folding her lips. Watching her closely, Trapper saw her chin quiver slightly before she turned to Mark. "Mark, it was Dr. McIntyre's responsibility to find a way to handle the patient's situation. He's not your boss, and he has no authority to ask you to do anything. I've hammered your responsibilities into your head for years, and yet you still overstepped your bounds to the point that the very existence of this hospital is in danger." At this point, she was taking great pains to control her breathing. "Gather your things and be out of this hospital within the hour." Mark's jaw dropped, his hands went to the arms of his chair, and he pushed himself up, facing her. Without looking him in the eye, she said quietly, "You're fired."

Trapper came out of his chair so fast it rolled backward and slammed into the wall. "Leah! This is not Mark's fault!"

She turned back to him with fire in her eyes. "He's put two companies at risk, McIntyre! He's not here to save your patients. He's here to protect the hospital, and he didn't do that."

Standing, Arnold held up his hands. "If this is anyone's responsibility, it's mine and the board. Leah, you warned us that having only one person with that kind of authority put the hospital at risk. We didn't listen to you because, frankly, we never thought the situation would occur. It hasn't up to now. I'll deal with The Joint Committee, the DOH, and the Insurance Commission. And I'll make sure we have the appropriate people available to authorize restricted surgeries in the future."

"I suggest you give that authority to all of your medical department heads," said Leah. "Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have to put together a report of the breach for my company and for your board. Mark, come with me. I have to escort you out after you gather your belongings." She held out her hand. "I need your hospital badge." Mark slowly unclipped it from his lapel and handed it to her, after which, they left the conference room.

"Arnold, you can't let her fire him," Trapper said angrily.

Slowly sitting in his chair, Arnold rubbed his forehead. "He doesn't work for me, Trapper. I have no say in the matter."

"Well, I do," snapped Trapper, turning and leaving the room. He got to the elevator just in time to board it and push the button for the third floor. Standing in front of Leah and facing her, he moved his hands to his hips and said firmly, "You and I need to talk."

She looked up at him sadly. "Do you think I want to do this? This is what happens when you're the boss. I have to think about the risks to my own company in addition to my client, and the first thing both would want to hear is that the person who committed the offense is gone. It's standard procedure."

The door opened behind Trapper. He stepped out, but held the door open, reaching in and grabbing Leah's arm. "Come with me."

"Do I have a choice?" she said, trying to pull her arm away. "McIntyre, let me go," she said, looking around her to see if anyone had noticed him pulling her down the hallway.

When they went by the nurse's station, Ernie and Gonzo stood by, watching and giving each other a disturbed look. They fell in line with Mark, who was already following Trapper and Leah down the hall.

"Let go of me," she said loud enough for people to stop in the hall and watch as Trapper had her up on her toes rushing down the hall. They entered ICU, and after that Trapper shoved her through the door of a patient's room, turning her and pushing her close to the glass that separated them from the Sanchez child. Leah tried to turn away, but Trapper held her there.

Leaning into her ear, he said quietly, but sternly, "Take a good long look, Leah. That's a six-year-old child in there. That's the life you claim you're not responsible for."

She felt a sudden sick chill that seemed to move through her with the sensation that her blood was draining from her body. Trapper heard her let out a timorous breath, watched her face change to a woeful, wet mess as her hands moved flat against the glass. "I can't do this anymore," she whispered between soft sobs.

Trapper had no time to react. Someone grabbed his collar and pulled him back out of the room. He found himself against the wall face to face with Mark. "What kind of cruel game are you playing, McIntyre? You know she can't handle this!" Mark yelled.

Trapper had just enough time to move his arms up between Mark's, knocking his away and breaking his hold on Trapper's collar before Gonzo stepped between them, pushing Mark backward. The two men looked poised to fight, but Gonzo didn't move. "This is a hospital. If you two want to fight, take it outside."

Ernie had sidestepped the melee, entering the room. "Oh no," she said, moving her hand to cover her mouth. She went back into the hall before any of the men had moved. "This isn't the time or the place for a fight," she said scornfully. "Leah's gone. She must have gone out the side door." The men stood still for a moment, letting what Ernie said sink in. "Well, don't just stand there! We have to find her!"

Moving his hands to his hips, Trapper flared his nostrils, drawing his mouth in. "Gonzo, take the stairs down to the first floor and check the parking lot. Mark, get down to the basement and see if she's in her office. Ernie, check the ladies room. I'm going to the loading docks. Maybe she's going out the back way. Meet back in my office."

Leah had, indeed, gone out the side door of the room. She looked back at Mark and Trapper, locked into what apparently was going to be a fight before she ran down the hall, hopping as she went to remove her heels. The service elevator door had opened just before she got there, so she was able to step on quickly, pressing the button for the basement until the doors closed.

Once in the basement, she turned toward the loading docks. There was only one man there, and he just watched as she ran to the big door of a bay and scrambled down onto the pavement, then ran across the back lot and through the bushes to the street. She stepped in front of a cab, causing the driver to slam on his breaks, and as he yelled out his window, she laid her hands on the hood, and ran to the side, opening the door. Stepping in, she barked directions as she closed the door. "Just go! Hurry!" The driver turned and glared at her. "Look, I'll pay you five hundred dollars to just go!" With that, he turned and squealed the tires as he left.

Trapper ran to the edge of the bay, looking out and just catching a glimpse of the back of a speeding cab. He turned back to the man on the loading dock. "Did you see a woman in a black suit go through here?"

"Yessir. She ran across the parking lot and almost got hit by a cab. Then she got in and left. She musta been in a big hurry the way that cabbie spun out of here."

Heading back toward the elevator, Trapper slammed his open hand against a packing box.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three **

Leah stood at the cabbie's window, trying to convince him to wait for her. "Look lady. My pay is directly dependent on my fares."

"I'm paying you five hundred dollars today. Surely that will beat what you would normally make in a couple of hours." He shrugged. "You have to wait anyway for me to go upstairs for the money. Here's my driver's license. You hold on to it until I get back. I just need to throw some things in a bag and get some money. Five minutes tops."

"Alright lady," he apathetically agreed. "I'll wait."

Running into her bedroom, Leah picked up the duffle she had used for the fishing trip still on her bedroom floor. She threw in a couple of changes of cloths, a pair of tennis shoes, her toiletries, several sets of keys, her checkbook, her address book, and the contents of her safe into the bag, and then ran back down to the cab. "Alright, can you take me to the Jeep dealership off 101?"

When the cab pulled into the parking lot at the dealership, Leah had already taken the money she had promised him out of her duffle. "This is probably more than you get paid in a day," she said, handing over the cash. "And it's enough for you to forget you ever saw me."

"Are you in some kind of trouble, lady?" asked the cabbie with a concerned look.

Looking away, she said, "No. I'm leaving, and there are some people…" She had to fight for control. "There are some people who won't want to see me go." She gave him a smile before she exited the car. "Thank you."

Walking into the showroom she looked around for the salesman who had helped her before, and then went to the receptionist. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for Daniel."

"I'll page him for you."

In a few minutes, the salesman appeared. "Daniel, did you go ahead and run my credit? I'd like to buy the Jeep I looked at if it's still here."

"It's still here," he said, guiding her to his office, "and your credit is stellar."

"Good, because I need to rush this. I need to leave in no more than twenty minutes."

"It'll take that long to complete the loan papers."

"Then I'll write you a check. You can call my bank to verify it's good. And I don't have time to dicker with the price. We agreed on a price Saturday, and that's all I'm going to pay," she said, handing him a check for the amount Trapper had negotiated. In the next twenty minutes, she signed the paperwork, changed her clothes in the ladies room and left in her new Jeep.

Trapper was the last to get back to his office. When he stepped in, he knew by the look on everyone else's face that they had not found her. He shook his head.

"Her car is still in the parking lot. She can't go far," said Gonzo.

"She can rent a car," said Trapper, sitting behind his desk. "We need to make a list of the places she might go. There's her apartment. Maybe the blues club on Taylor and Powell at the wharf."

"Her house in LA," said Mark. "I don't think she'd go there, but we should check. She has a house near South Lake Tahoe somewhere on Fallen Leaf Lake, but I don't know the address."

"We don't have much to go on," said Ernie. "I'll go call the rental car companies and see if I can get any information."

Mark headed for the door with her. "I'll go by her apartment and the club on Powell."

Sitting on the corner of the desk, Gonzo watched for a moment as Trapper's eyes searched the air, trying to figure out where else she might have gone. "Trapper, why don't we call the police? They can put out an APB."

"What would we tell them? She left work unexpectedly?"

"No. We'll tell them she's a heart patient, and we're concerned about her health. It's not a lie."

"All right. Call the police. I'll call the children's hospital."

As the day dragged on, Trapper stayed at his desk, waiting for return calls. He'd called the children's hospital, but she hadn't been seen there. He thought about calling the airport, but he had no idea where she would have gone, and that made finding a possible flight impossible.

Ernie struck out with the rental car companies, and Mark's news was no better. "You know, Dr. McIntyre, we wouldn't be looking for her if you hadn't dragged her into that room," Mark said heatedly. "You knew that would upset her."

Trapper had been sitting back in his chair chewing on the arm of his glasses trying to think. He glanced over at Mark. After a deep breath, he responded soberly, "I've already taken responsibility for this mess. But I'm not going to apologize for taking her to see the child who might have died if everyone had stuck to the rules. When you're in a business that deals with life and death, the rules can't be that unbending. I knew it would upset her. She should have been upset. Besides that, I was trying to save your job." He took another deep breath. "I never imagined she'd run away."

The next day, Arnold came to Trapper's office. "I have some news about Ms. Haverty." Trapper immediately closed the chart he was viewing, needing to hear something…anything about her. "She's resigned her position with her company, claiming full responsibility, and it appears she's absolved Mark of any wrongdoing. She didn't go through with his termination. In fact, she recommended him to take her place here."

"Didn't they try to talk her out of resigning?" asked Trapper anxiously.

"They didn't have the chance. She left a message late last night when she knew there'd be no one there to answer the phone. They don't want her to leave. They asked us to call them if we heard from her and said they'd do the same."

Trapper nodded defeatedly. "The police put out an APB, but without knowing where she went and how she went, they weren't hopeful she'd be found. They also asked the LAPD and the Eldorado County Sheriff to do the same. One of the deputies in South Lake Tahoe knew which house on Fallen Leaf Lake was hers. He reported back that it didn't look like the house had been lived in for years."

Leaning over on the desk, Arnold saw the worry on Trapper's face. "Why don't you go home? Gates can cover for you here. If we need you, we'll call."

"Thanks, Arnold, but no. If she calls, she'll call here."

Late that afternoon, Gonzo and Trapper saw someone at her car as they were heading out to the Titanic. "Don't look now, Trapper, but someone's trying to get into Leah's car," said Gonzo, stopping to watch.

Changing direction, they both went over to the car. "You mind telling me what you're doing?" asked Trapper a bit brusquely.

"Not that it's any of your business, pal, but I've come to pick up my car."

"_Your_ car? I don't think so. This car belongs to a friend of ours."

"Well, mister, it just so happens that a friend of mine sold me this car yesterday."

Trapper looked sideways at the man. "What's your friend's name?"

"Leah Lewis. I'm her mechanic."

"You saw her yesterday?" The man nodded. "When…what time?"

"I don't know. Before lunch sometime."

"Look, we haven't been able to find her since she left the hospital yesterday morning, and we're concerned about her. Did she say anything about where she was going?"

"Not a word. But she was driving a new Jeep, so I figure she might be heading up to the mountains. She always talked about the trips she and her husband used to make up to Lake Tahoe. They used to camp a lot, too, so I figure that's why she bought a Jeep. Now, if you don't mind, I gotta get back to work."

They stood back and watched the man drive the car out of the parking lot. "Camping," said Gonzo, thinking out loud. "We should call the State and National Park Service and let them know to watch out for her." Nodding, Trapper turned toward his car. "Hey, where are you going?"

"To a car dealership."

Trapper returned from the car dealership with only a little information about the Jeep which he shared with all the law enforcement agencies and the park service, but it didn't make much difference. No one could find her, and after the morning she left, no one had seen her. Three more days had passed, and it was becoming more and more likely no one would find her until she wanted to be found.

Trapper was at the hospital every day, performing all the necessary functions of a Chief of Surgery, but he retreated to his office and stayed, waiting for his phone to ring. Today, Ernie and Gonzo brought in sushi for lunch and joined him.

"How long are you going to wait?" asked Ernie. "At some point, you need to get on with it."

Looking over the sushi on his plate, Trapper pushed his glasses up on his head, and smiled. "Are any of our patients going without the appropriate medical care?"

"Medical care, no. Care in general, yes. You."

Gonzo took another piece of sushi off the tray they'd brought in. "Ernie's right. You have to stop waiting for this phone to ring. It Leah wants to talk to you, she'll find you."

When the phone rang, they all stopped in the midst of biting or chewing or drinking and watched the light blink on the phone. It rang four times before Trapper finally answered it, and when he did, there was nothing on the other end but silence. Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Ernie and Gonzo mouthed, "Is it Leah?"

Even though nothing had been said, Trapper nodded and waited until the person on the other end hung up.

"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Ernie with angst and annoyance in her voice.

Trapper smiled. "She'll call back once she's collected herself."

"How do you know it was her and not just a wrong number?" asked Gonzo.

"It felt like her."

The phone rang again, Trapper picking it up after the first ring. "McIntyre." Again, there was silence. "Tell me where you are," said Trapper quietly. "I'll come to you."

Her voice was almost a whisper. "Why would you want to? You must think I'm some kind of monster."

He answered so that his smile could be heard in his voice. "I don't think you're a monster. If you were, Maria Sanchez wouldn't have affected you the way she did. What I do think is that we need to find a balance between how you've defined your job and the reality of working in a hospital."

"I don't have to do that. I quit," she said sadly. "That job is the way it is. It's not changing." Trapper swore he heard a small whimper. "I'm the one who's changed."

"You didn't change. You just found what you'd lost. Your company doesn't want you to quit, and neither do I." All he heard was a sniffle. Leaning back, he tucked the receiver between his shoulder and ear, his voice deep and husky. "Where are you?" Gonzo and Ernie looked at each other hopefully when Trapper quickly sat up and wrote something down. "Where is this?"

"It's in Glenbrook on the east side of Lake Tahoe."

"I'm on my way. It'll take about five hours. Wait for me…Leah?"

There was a long pause before she answered, "I'll be here."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter Forty-Four**

Driving through South Lake Tahoe, Trapper stopped at the shops just before Stateline to buy a bouquet of flowers. He stood on the sidewalk, looking at the bouquet when he realized he didn't remember most of the trip there. The ride up Highway 50 along the American River had always been one of his favorites, but today, he had been preoccupied. What was he going to say when he got to Leah that would make a difference? He hadn't really thought this through, instead acting on a knee-jerk reaction to her disappearance. What if it was him who needed to be there more that she needed him there? Shaking his head, he got into his car and pulled out on the road.

When he turned down the road into Glenbrook, he was met by a gate guard. "Your name, sir?"

"John McIntyre. I'm here to see Leah Haverty."

"I don't have a Haverty on my list."

"Leah Haverty Lewis."

"The Lewises are residents. They won't be on this list. Wait one moment, please." The guard went back into the gate house and made a phone call. In another minute, the gate began to open. Handing Trapper a card, the guard explained the use of the code written on it before Trapper proceeded through the gate. He found the driveway to the house and slowly drove down its slope to a rustic two-story redwood and rock-clad house set back in the trees near the shore of the lake. Taking the flowers from the passenger seat, he made his way up the curved walkway to the front door and just looked at it for a moment; a beautifully carved, heavy redwood door. Maybe it should've been David Sandler standing at this door. With some trepidation, he raised his arm and knocked.

Leah had been pacing in front of the three wide French doors that led out to a deck looking over the lake. Though he sounded more worried on the phone than anything, she thought he might still be angry about what had taken place in Slocum's conference room. Maybe it had been a mistake to tell him where she was. Perhaps she should have just disappeared as she had four years ago. She stopped pacing and turned, hearing a knock on the front door. Maybe he would leave if she didn't answer. No, he was tenacious, and he had come all this way. He wouldn't just walk away. She had thought he might care for her, and he had said as much; not in so many words; just four little ones. 'I do. I am.' But he had been so angry.

Hearing nothing, Trapper knocked again. He knew she was in the house; the guard had called before he was allowed to pass through the gate. "Leah?"

Standing on the other side with her forehead against the door, she heard him call. His voice sounded anxious. She pushed the handle down and pulled the door open. For a moment, they simply looked at each other. In that moment, she saw only compassion in his eyes even as he saw the pain of the conflict between her job and her heart rise to the surface and erupt in a torrent of tears. Wrapping his arms around her, he moved her away from the door, kicking it closed behind him, and held her there until she found composure.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes.

"It's all right. I imagine you've been doing a lot of that in the last few days. These are for you," he said, handing her the flowers.

"Did you bring luggage?" she asked, sniffling.

"Why don't I go get that while you take care of the flowers?" He kissed her forehead before heading out the door and coming back in a matter of minutes. "Where should I put this?"

"Upstairs. Except for the master bedroom at the end of the hall, you can have any room you like. I would suggest the first one on the back side of the house. It opens onto a deck and has a beautiful view."

When he came back down, Leah was just moving the flowers to a table in the living area. "Did you have a chance to get something to eat? We're only a couple of hours away from dinner, but I can make you a sandwich if you're hungry?"

Taking her hand, he pulled her into another hug. "I'm not hungry. I was worried." They stood in the center of the living area for a moment, just holding on. "Do you feel like talking?"

"I was kinda hoping we could just forget about it and move on."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Trapper, moving away just enough to see her eyes. "If you don't deal with it now, it might be another four years before you do."

"Let's go outside. It's a beautiful day." The two strolled hand in hand out the middle French door to side-by-side deck chairs where Leah had a variety of magazines and books stacked haphazardly on a side table along with an empty glass and a plate covered in what looked like what was supposed to have been lunch.

"Have you been eating?"

"Don't start that, please. There've been extenuating circumstances."

"You can't afford extenuating circumstances." Patting her knee, he said, "Stay put. I'll be right back." When he returned, he carried a glass of milk and a container of mixed nuts. "Eat the almonds and pecans."

She took a pecan from the jar, nibbling on an edge thoughtfully. "Do you understand now why my staff was in the basement?"

Thinking for a moment, Trapper smiled. "So you didn't have to see what went on in the hospital."

"So _we _didn't have to see."

She moved to the edge of her chair and turned to him. "Trapper, a company like mine has to insulate itself from those life and death situations in order to do what they have been chartered to do. Companies like mine are there to enforce rules and regulations and policies and procedures, and if we can't do that, keeping the function of the businesses out of it, entities like The Joint Committee or the insurance commissions won't approve our products that are supposed to ensure enforcement. That's why we work with the decision makers of a company to make sure things like what happened at your hospital don't happen."

"I still think you were hiding behind how you've defined your job."

"I didn't define my job. My company defined it, and that's why I've done it this way. I've never had a problem keeping my job and the life and death decisions of a hospital separate simply because I didn't involve myself in it. I should never have been a patient at your hospital…were my job was. I met your patients. I met…you," she said more quietly. "I've lost my objectivity, and that's why I quit. And since someone had to take the fall, my quitting took care of that, too." She slumped back in her chair. "The saddest part of all this is that I could have entered the authorization codes." Sitting forward, Trapper looked pointedly at her. "I don't know why that surprises you. I have access to everything in that system while it's being implemented. If I had been there and you had come to me instead of Mark with the situation, I would have entered the codes. I would also have resigned because I had no authority to do that, but at least the audit reports wouldn't have shown anything abnormal, and the hospital would have avoided any censure."

Trapper snorted and looked out at the lake, biting the inside of his cheek before he faced her again. "Then what is this all about? Why did you run away?"

"It's about the conflict between doing my job and my inability to think about the life of a child because of my job as you said. But it's also about firing Mark; something that the job demanded, and then you being so angry at me for doing my job." She dropped her forehead into her hand. "You were angry, Mark was angry, Dr. Gates was standing between you to stop the two of you from fighting, and I was…done with it all." She stood and went to the deck railing. "I should have fought harder when the board decided there'd be only one person with that kind of authority. I knew it was a mistake then. That started everything. If the system had been completed, and we were gone, Maria Sanchez might have died. If Maria had died because I did my job, I don't think I could live with myself."

Pushing himself up from the chair, he went to stand beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "There are a lot of 'ifs' in all of this that didn't happen. Every one of us did things we regret now…you, Arnold…me. The point is, we learn from our mistakes and move forward. Running away…that's a step in the wrong direction." He leaned forward to see her face, but she turned away. "Your company wants you back, you know. You should at least talk to them. Now that Arnold has listened to your recommendation, this situation won't happen again."

"It won't happen at San Francisco Memorial. But what about the next hospital?"

Turning up the corner of his mouth, he said, "You don't let it happen again."

She didn't respond, but rather looked out over the lake and sighed.

"Don't you want to go back to work?"

"Why? That was my first day back. Look what the job turned me into. I don't need to work. John took care of that."

Trapper turned her to face him. "You need your job. You'd go crazy without it. More to the point, I'm not ready to leave my job, and without me to entertain you, what would you do all day?" he said, trying to hold back a grin. He let it show when he saw her eyes roll, her head turn and a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Tilting his head and shrugging slightly, he finished, "You just need to control the job instead of letting it control you." Both looked down at his stomach when it growled. "Maybe we _should _go find something for dinner," he said, chuckling.

"I know just the place." He looked at her with raised brows. "Chez Haverty. I hope you like leftovers."


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter Forty-Five**

Sitting on a stool at the kitchen cabinet, Trapper propped an elbow on the counter and rested his chin in his hand. "Can I do something to help?"

"How are you with salads?" she asked without turning around.

He jumped up off the stool and headed for the refrigerator. "Instead of telling you, why don't I just show you? What do you have in here?"

"There's spinach and some other greens, carrots, gorgonzola cheese, and a champagne vinaigrette dressing. And on the counter on the other side, you'll find pecans and dried cranberries. No wait. The nuts are still out on the deck."

Walking out to the deck, he retrieved the nuts and came back. "Bowl?"

"In the cabinet right in front of you."

"And a knife?"

"Drawer," she said, pointing.

A mist had surrounded the lake in the early evening, making the sunset appear in muted colors; pinks and mauves fading to slate blue along the fringes of the lake and enshrouding the mountains that surrounded it. It was the perfect backdrop for dinner by candlelight. Leah had prepared salmon croquettes from leftover salmon along with a homemade asparagus risotto that rivaled Antonio's and Trapper's dark greens salad. As Trapper poured white wine into two glasses, he smiled at the sound of the lake water lapping at the boulders protruding here and there from the lake near the shore. It was a peaceful sound. He could understand why she chose to come here.

"I thought your house was at Fallen Leaf Lake. No one seemed to know about this one."

"This was the first property we bought here. We used it for several years for ourselves, but then bought the house on Fallen Leaf Lake because it was quieter there. Motorized boats aren't allowed on that lake. When we moved, this one became a vacation rental." She took a bite of a salmon cake. "I always liked this one more. John preferred the other house. Anyway, I had the management company cancel all the future rentals. They'll be offering the other house for rent as soon as it's ready. The auction company that's cleaning out the LA house will also clear the Fallen Leaf Lake house, and then it will be furnished for a rental. Some of that stuff will come over here…antiques from the area that I wouldn't want to disappear."

"So you're keeping this one for yourself. Are you going to have time to use it?"

She set her fork on her plate, and reached for her wine glass. "This will be my home if I choose to be among the ranks of the unemployed," she said sadly. "And if I return to work, it will remain my private vacation home…not to be rented. If I'm not supposed to work all the time, I should have some time to enjoy it."

"It doesn't sound like you want to stay unemployed." His plate cleared, he moved his wine glass next to hers, and then moved his chair, sitting and draping his arm across the back of hers. "What would you do with yourself?"

Leaning back underneath his arm, she smiled when he moved his hand down to her shoulder. "Believe it or not, I did quite a few things when the children were small. I worked part-time for awhile when they were babies, and I quilted and embroidered. I was very health conscious, so I had a vegetable garden and canned."

"In LA?"

"The house sits on a half acre. I had plenty of room."

Trapper's look had slowly turned skeptical. "Did you raise chickens for fresh eggs and milk the cow every morning?" She smirked and turned away, bringing forth a high-pitched laugh from him.

"I'm glad I amuse you," she said as she rose from her chair and began to gather the dinner dishes.

"Wait a minute," he said, back-peddling. She left for the kitchen. "Come back here!" he called, turning in his chair. When he realized she wasn't going to stop, he went after her.

Giving him an incensed look, she turned her back to him to load the dishwasher. "Is it so hard to believe that I can do things other than build computer systems?"

He brought over the serving dishes. "Well, you play the guitar quite well," he said with a grin.

"That doesn't count. Music and computers…"

"I know…go hand in hand," he finished, raising his hands defensively. "I was only kidding about the chickens and cow." She snickered, and he leaned over her shoulder. "I heard that." Closing the dishwasher, he took her hand and drew her into him. "When are you going to call your company?"

She pushed, but he didn't let go. He glared down upon her with raised eyebrows.

"I can't call now. No one is there."

"You _can_ call now. Your boss is waiting for a call…'anytime', he said. He just wants to hear from you."

When she dropped her forehead on his chest, his hands went to her arms. "Leah, it wasn't my intention to make this harder for you. But you're not the same person you were when I first met you, and you can't afford to go back to that. You have every right to define the difference between _your_ right and _your_ wrong. If that's what you need to go back, fight for it." She sighed and looked up, glancing into his eyes before she looked beyond him, questioning in her mind if it was worth the fight. She could walk away easily enough, but did she really want to? Trapper reached for the cordless phone, holding it out to her. "I'll finish cleaning up while you call."

Reluctantly, she took the phone and walked back out to the deck as Trapper looked on. She stood at the rail, considering the phone, then dialed. Waiting for an answer, she looked out over the lake at the sliver of moon that had just begun to rise over the far mountains, and just as she was about to hang up, she heard a 'hello.'

"Doug, it's Leah. I'm fine. I'm in South Lake Tahoe." Sagging on the railing, she inhaled deeply at the distress in his voice. "I know it was short notice. I had intended to follow it up with a formal letter, but…too many people have been trying to change my mind. Yes, I know…you, too. Leave of absence? No, I don't want leave. I just had leave. Doug, it doesn't matter that it was medical. I'm ready to go back to work…with a couple of changes." She straightened. "Really? Well, I want to be able to push back while we're discussing requirements and specifications. If I think they're making a bad decision, I want the autonomy to delay the project until I can get some agreement on major points. He did? Mr. Slocum wasn't really the one who objected. It just seemed no one else on the board wanted to be bothered with it."

"Leah, you can have whatever you need. You've been successful at this long enough for me to trust your judgment," said Doug. "I would love to have you oversee all the related industry projects."

"No. I don't want that. I need to be close to the work. And I'd like to be more stable. I need to be able to call somewhere home."

"All right. Finish up what you've started, and then we'll discuss your choices for your next assignment…before you are assigned. Fair?"

"Fair enough. There's one more thing. Mark Hansen is ready to work without a net. He needs his own team."

"He doesn't want one."

She held her breath for a moment. She never thought he'd turn down a promotion. "I don't understand. He's been with me for fourteen or fifteen years. He's ready."

"He said he'd only stay at San Francisco Memorial If you came back."

"You don't understand, Doug. I don't think I can work with him anymore."

"The two of you are the best team I have. Do you realize that you as the architect and Mark as the technical lead are more successful than any other team in the company? You just need to keep it on a business level and convince him to do the same. I think if you tell him he doesn't have a choice if he wants to stay with the company, he'll bite." When Doug didn't hear an answer, he asked, "Or has it become personal for both of you?"

"He's always been a friend, Doug…ever since we left college."

"He's always felt the same way, Leah, even when you were married to John."

"How do you know that?"

"Because he came to me back then, wanting to move to another team. I told him to deal with it, and he did."

"Until now."

"No. He'll go back to dealing with it. John was in his way before. Now as I understand it, Dr. McIntyre is in his way."

She scowled. "How do you know about that?"

"It pays to know what's happening with your employees, Leah. Don't worry how I know. Just remember that I do. Now, when will you be back?" There was silence on the line. "Oh, come now. Don't tell me you're thinking about it again."

"In a few days. I'll call you when I'm back."

"Good enough. I'll talk to you then."

Leaning on the door frame, Trapper had heard most of her side of the conversation. "Does that mean we have a few days?"

She turned, but didn't look at him, rather she twisted her mouth with a thoughtful air. "He said he knew about you."

"Me? What does he know about me?"

"He didn't say, but he referred to you in almost the same light as John. I don't know if I'm comfortable with that."

"What does it matter if he knows about me…us, if that's what you mean?"

"He's spying on me…he's intruding in my personal life, and he has no right to do that. I don't know if I want to work for him." Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her, lingering a moment before he moved back. He said nothing, but smiled. Raising a suspicious eyebrow, she asked, "What was that for?"

"Why don't we stop talking about work? We'll deal with it when we get back. Right now, I have a few days off that the hospital owes me, and I'd like to spend it relaxing…with you." Cocking his head, he looked sideways at her. "Of course, if that's all right with you."

"Unless you want to go to a casino, bar or restaurant, there isn't much to do around here at night."

"I see a beach bathed in moonlight." Taking her hand, Trapper headed for the steps leading to a walkway that meandered toward the water's edge. When they walked out onto the beach, he moved his arm around her. They walked silently down the beach until they turned back toward the house. "Do you really have any idea what you want?"

"You were right. I need to work. I wouldn't be happy quilting or knitting all day. And I have to admit…these last few weeks I've enjoyed life out of the basement." She stopped walking and turned to face him. "How did you know? I've been a project for you from the very first day, haven't I?"

Looking over her head, he smiled and pulled her against him. "How do I say this without getting myself into trouble?"

"The truth would be nice," she said, moving her arms around him.

"Hm. Yes, well, in the beginning, maybe. Once I found you were a heart patient, you weren't a project. You were a patient, and then somewhere in there…sometime after Sandler took over your case, it all changed."

She looked him in the eye. "What am I now?"

Caressing her cheek, he bent his head, and held her tightly as he gave her a fiery kiss. "Does that answer your question?" She dropped her gaze and shivered. "Are you cold?" When she didn't answer, he turned her toward the house. "Let's get you inside."

Trapper closed and locked the French door behind him while Leah went to lock the front door. He followed her up the stairs and stopped at his bedroom door, but she took his hand and led him down the hall to her room. "Leah, I came here because you disappeared, and I was worried. I didn't come with any expectations."

"Trapper," she whispered as she rose on her toes to touch his lips with hers. "If I never do this, I'll never know." Reacting to her kiss and the warmth of her sweet breath on his face, he moved his arms around her, lifting her and carrying her into the bedroom.

No words were necessary the rest of the night, their passion spoken with their eyes, their mouths, their caresses, the insecurity of her scars allayed by his tender kisses. As the moon shone through the open glass doors, the sheer curtains rose, fell and fluttered in the crisp breeze, casting vague, undulating slivers of light and shadow that moved in time with their bodies.


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter Forty-Six**

Waking up like clockwork before first light, he turned over. When he did, he expected her to be there, but barring him, the bed was empty. Looking around, he saw a white shrouded figure outside the French doors of the bedroom at the rail of the deck. Then he heard it; a sound that made his heart seize; a soft, sad cry that caused him to curse himself and bury his head in his hands when he swung his feet out of the bed to the floor. Pulling on his jeans, he walked out onto the deck, standing behind her. "What is this?" he asked softly.

"We don't see the sunrise from here. It mostly casts long shadows on the lake; shadows that perform an odd ballet moving around the boulders in the water."

"I'm talking about you."

"This?" she said, wiping her face. "This is me…saying goodbye."

Trapper's jaw dropped slightly before he crooked it and let out a quiet, nervous breath.

She heard him and reached back, searching for his hand and clutching it reassuringly. "This is me letting John go."

Closing his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief. He moved against her back and squeezed her shoulders. "I'll leave you to it." He showered, and then went downstairs to make a pot of coffee, smiling when he heard the water of the shower running.

She came downstairs dressed in jeans and a tank top underneath a loose sweater that hung off one shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

His kiss stopped her. "Don't apologize for dealing with those feelings. I don't expect you to say goodbye to John. You shouldn't." Passing her a cup of coffee, he continued, "I hope you get to a place where you can smile instead of cry at the memories." She smiled up at him as she sipped her coffee. "How are you?" he asked, searching her eyes for the answer.

"How do you mean?" she said, avoiding his gaze.

Setting his coffee cup on the counter, he turned her face up to his with a finger under her chin. "Regrets?"

"None," she said, looking into his eyes with a touch of a smile on her lips and a conviction that told him she was sure of her answer. She set her cup on the counter next to his, moving her arms under his and stepping into him. They shared a slow, deep kiss that left each of them wanting more. "I'm looking forward to getting on with life…again," she whispered, enjoying his warm breath on her cheek as he kissed his way to her jaw.

"That's nice to hear," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Where do we start?"

She backed away, dragging a finger from his lips to his chin, leaving him smiling affectionately at her. Taking her coffee, she rounded the far counter and sat on one of the stools while he leaned forward with his elbow on the counter across from her and his chin resting in his hand. "Have you been over Kingsbury Grade?" she asked.

"No. I usually come through here in winter, if at all. I prefer Mammoth for skiing, and if Tioga Pass is closed because of snow, I go to Carson City from here and hit 395. But I've never stayed."

"I figured as much. You've missed a spectacular view of the Carson Valley. I thought we'd drive up the grade after we have breakfast at Harrah's. After that, I'd like to go out to Fallen Leaf Lake. I want to get some of my things out of the house that I know I'll want here before it all gets stored in San Francisco."

He took her free hand and kissed it, looking at her warily. "Are you sure you want to do that now?'

"I don't want to do it alone. And you're probably the only other person who will be up here for some time. But if it will make you uncomfortable, I'll wait."

"I'm not worried about me." Taking her cup, Trapper turned around to the sink and rinsed both cups. "What are we getting?"

"Oh, my downhill and cross-country skis and snowshoes, my hiking boots, some camping gear…and the boat…maybe some of the antiques if we have room."

"You have a boat?" asked Trapper, taking her hand and heading to the front door.

"In the garage. I'll put it in the garage here. I'm sure it needs a tune up. Are you in a hurry?"

"Yes. I worked up an appetite last night," he said smiling naughtily while holding his hand out for her keys.

Twisting her mouth into an amused grin at the same time she blushed, she gave him a sideways look. "You don't know where we're going."

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do, and I do know the way to Harrah's."

She scoffed. "I know what you're doing. You just want to drive my new car."

"It's not a car. It's a Jeep," he said, holding her by the waist as she climbed up into the passenger seat.

After breakfast at Harrah's, Trapper relinquished the keys on Leah's argument that he needed to be able to look around so he wouldn't miss anything. When they arrived at Daggett's Pass, she pulled into a clearing on the side of the road. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

Trapper rose, placing a knee on his seat, looking over the Jeep's windshield. "This rivals the view up on Monitor Pass," said Leah, grinning at the awed look on Trapper's face. He looked at her with a sheepish smile, and turned back to the view of the Carson Valley. "Oh no. Don't tell me you've never been over Monitor Pass. Oh. Maybe not if you only come out in the winter. Monitor Pass is usually closed, too."

"Why is it that you never have a camera when you need one?" asked Trapper as he climbed out of the Jeep and walked to the edge of the clearing, standing with his hands on his hips.

"There's a camera at the Fallen Leaf Lake house. We can get it and come back if you'd like."

Trapper moved his arm around her when she joined him at the side of the clearing. "We're only about five hours away from San Francisco. We'll be back, won't we?" he asked.

"That depends entirely on your schedule, _Dr._ McIntyre. I can't believe you've never stopped here."

He shrugged. "I don't get much time off."

"Not true. You get it. You just don't take it. This road just happens to stay open in the winter, so you have no excuse. However, the road around the west side of the lake doesn't, so we're going to see Emerald Bay before we go out to the house, if that's alright with you," she said with raised brows.

Turning back toward the Jeep, he answered, "My dear, since you're driving, I'm obliged to follow." He stole a kiss before he helped her up into the driver's seat.

On the way to Emerald Bay, Leah pointed out all the historic and view-worthy spots along the way. "Taylor Creek is where we used to fly fish for trout, though you have to check with the park service here regularly. It's not always open to fishing, especially when the Kokanee salmon are spawning. It's a beautiful sight. The creek is chock- full of red fish. And it was convenient for us because Taylor Creek flows between Fallen Leaf and Lake Tahoe."

"How far can you get up this road in winter?"

"They actually don't plow much farther than this, and they don't plow our road either, so when we came out in winter, we used snowmobiles. There's a parking lot right at the beginning of our road. We'd leave the car parked there and walk to the house the first time in, and then we'd have our snow mobiles. I need to have those moved to the other house, too."

Pulling along the side of the road where it was widened for parking at Emerald Bay, Leah announced, "We're here." Once out of the Jeep, she took Trapper's hand and walked him beyond the barrier wall out to the top of Lower Eagle Falls, pointing out at the bay. "Feast thine eyes on a sight that approaches Heaven itself."

Trapper looked out for a moment before he gave her a scrutinizing look. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Did you ever watch Bonanza?"

"Not religiously, but yes. JT wanted to be Little Joe and Melanie swooned over the oldest son."

"That's how Ben Cartwright described the lake in the pilot. I'd swear that shot of the lake was at Emerald Bay. The other side of the lake in the picture was too close to be anywhere else, and you can see a similar view from Bliss State Park back the way we came."

"This is absolutely beautiful. I don't think I've seen anything quite like it. The water is so blue."

"Down below is another one of those historic places; Vikingsholm. It's a small castle at the very end of the bay. And behind us is a campground and trail to the upper falls and another gorgeous small lake, Eagle Lake. That trail leads you into the Desolation Wilderness."

Looking across the road, Trapper cocked his head and looked back at Leah. "You said you like to hike. Have you ever been up that trail?"

She smiled sweetly up at him. "Yes. I've been up that trail many times. I could never get tired of it, and there are so many directions you can go, you'd be hard pressed to see everything in a lifetime. The Wilderness is full of small lakes, and the terrain is starkly beautiful. You're up above the tree line in many places, and the surface is mainly granite up there, so not many trees."

"I'll tell you what. If you start exercising and get your hiking legs up to par, I'll let you take me up there," he said, returning the smile.

She bit her lip. "Uh…have you ever been up there?"

"No."

"Well, I would suggest that you exercise as well."

"I'm not in bad shape," he said, creasing his brow and patting his stomach. "I get exercise. Gonzo and I run almost every day."

"You run on flat ground around a park. You need to start running up hills." She turned back to the view of the lake. "It's always hard to leave here. I should have thought to bring a picnic lunch. We could eat right here in the middle of the stream before it falls over the side." Turning to him, she moved her hands to his sides. "Better yet, if the guy who used to take care of my boat is still here, we can take the boat to him this afternoon and try her out tomorrow. We'll bring her into the bay. That way, you can see the castle down there."

He gave her a quick kiss. "Deal."


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

The road to the house on Fallen Leave Lake was a narrow winding road, so the going was slow. When they arrived at the house, Leah pulled into the short drive way and stared for a moment.

Trapper watched her, her eyes moving from the front door to each window. "Are you sure you want to do this now? We can come up again."

Swallowing hard, she turned the Jeep off. "No. I'm fine," she said as she jumped out. She went to a side door off the garage, unlocking it, and reaching in she hit the button for the garage door opener. Once the door was open, she walked in, going over the boat to see if the trailer was still in good enough shape to pull it. When she got to the back of the garage, she stopped.

Trapper had been behind her, looking over the boat as well, and when she stopped, he leaned over her shoulder to see her face. She was white as a ghost with her mouth agape, looking up at the back wall. He followed her gaze and found a row of skis neatly hanging on the wall from the longest to the shortest with matching gloves, bibs and boots hanging beside the skis.

"Leah?" Drawing his lips into a tight line, he exhaled heavily as he took her arms and turned her around, walking her out of the garage. He helped her up into the Jeep, and leaned in front of her, fastening her seat belt. "We'll do this another time," he said quietly.

She smiled weakly while looking off at nothing. "No. I really don't see it getting any easier. But would you mind taking care of the skis?" Trapper smiled and gave her a single nod. "Our names are above our sections. I would like everything in my section…that's alpine and cross-country skis, my snowshoes, and my bib, boots and gloves. I also want the set of parabolic skis in JJ's section. You can put the skis in the boat, and the clothes in the back of the Jeep."

"And where will you be?"

"In the house," she said with a sigh.

"I want you to wait until I take care of the skis." It only took a severe look from Trapper to make her close her eyes and nod.

After loading the skis, they walked through the front door together. Trapper's eyes were drawn up into the open rafters where stuffed black bears sat, dangled or lay sprawled out on the beams. A rock fireplace soared to the ceiling, and hanging next to it was an enormous old hornet's nest. The walls were adorned with antique straight wooden skis and a pair of old snowshoes with leather straps, a set of ice cutting equipment and other implements used for mining and cutting lumber. There were also odds and ends from the old hotels that at some time in the past had graced the shores of the big lake. The firebox itself contained a crane that swung in and out from the left wall. On the pot hooks attached to the crane were a kettle and a larger pot, and on the hearth next to the firebox stood a large iron kettle full of wood and a Dutch oven.

The room was decorated with rustic furniture, tables and rugs in various places on the hardwood floors. Skylights in the ceiling along with windows all the way around the room made it very bright without any artificial lighting. The view out the back windows across the lake made the room seem cozier; the other side of the lake could be easily seen with the mountains soaring up and still topped with snow.

"I can see why John liked this house," said Trapper as he turned to view the entire room.

"There's only one problem with this house now that I've decided to trade. I can't rent it in the winter. It's too difficult to get to. I'm not sure many people from the valley would own snowmobiles or would be willing to walk in to get mine. And then there's the extra liability and repairs that go with letting renters use mine."

"Then why are you switching? Other than the antiques and…" he looked up, "…the bears looking down on you, I don't see a huge difference other than the view. They're both rustic, this one probably a bit more so, but this one feels more like home than the other. And the view is just a matter of preference; the big lake or the smaller one with the mountains."

"You like this house better, don't you?" she asked, looking up and around.

"What I like is beside the point. I think you need to give this more thought. Why don't you wait until some of it is cleared out before you make a decision? The auction house can clear Beth and JJ's room, and they can certainly remove John's things from the master. Change the furniture around some, or get new furniture, and it won't feel like the same room. Or use a different room if it bothers you that much."

She turned and walked toward the fireplace, then turned all around, looking at all the things she had collected specifically for this house. Walking into the kitchen off the side of the big room, she looked around at all her things hanging or sitting on the top of the cabinets. This kitchen had been hers to redesign when they bought the house, and she loved every nook and cranny of it. All her pots, pans, utensils, dinnerware…everything really, was meant for this house alone. When Trapper caressed her shoulders, she didn't jump even though she hadn't heard him follow her in. His hands felt warm, familiar and comforting. "Maybe you're right. I do love the way this house is nestled into the forest. I love to see the mountains around the lake. And I remember enjoying the walks here…into the forest or down Taylor Creek…the peace and quiet; the serenity." Turning, she leaned into him even as his arms moved around her. "I could store the snowmobiles, so we could pick them up on the way in. That way, we wouldn't have to walk in."

"We?" he asked, studying her.

Glancing up at him, she smiled and laid her head on his chest. "I don't know of anyone else I'd invite up here, and I'm not sure I would attempt to come up here in winter alone." Gently pushing away from him, she said, "Let me just get my wetsuit, fins and snorkel. While I'm doing that would you hang the ski stuff back on the wall?" she finished, wincing.

He rolled his eyes. "I used to think you weren't like any woman I had ever met."

She had already started up the stairs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it said it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind?" he yelled up as she disappeared at the top. He shook his head, chuckling and went back out to the garage.

She avoided looking into the children's bedrooms as she walked to the end of the hall where the master bedroom took up the whole end of the house. Slowly stepping into the middle of the room, she looked around. She smiled, remembering how John had declared that he lost his watch on the way back to LA at a point when it was too late to turn around and go back. And there on his night table lay his watch where he'd left it and forgotten. She picked it up and put it in her pocket. Not that she had thought about keeping it, but rather she had thought about it being stolen. It was a nice watch; a Rolex, and she didn't want it to disappear. She wanted the disposition of it to be her decision. Opening the closet door, she stood for moment admiring how organized it was; John's clothes on the right, hers on the left. Their eveningwear hung together across the back wall. Leaning into his clothes, she took a deep breath and shed a tear. John's scent was gone, replaced by mustiness.

Trapper had already re-hung the skis and hitched the boat to the Jeep, but didn't go back into the house. He was leaning back against the Jeep when Leah came out with her wetsuit and accessories.

"Thank you," she said as she stowed her swimming gear in the back.

"I didn't want to interrupt," he said, brushing her hair back away from her face. "Are you all right?"

She took a deep breath and smiled. "I think so. I took this," she said, showing Trapper the watch. "I didn't take it because I wanted it. I took it because I didn't want it to be stolen." Moving her fingers to her lips, she choked back a sob. "No. I didn't want the decision of what to do with it to be stolen."

Trapper pulled her into him and kissed her temple. "You don't have to explain. I understand."

Pulling out of the driveway toward the main road, Trapper asked, "Where to?"

"There's a gas station just past the light at the Y on the right. Bert's Café is next to it. You can pull in between them. My friends, Bueno and Marty, own both. Bueno is the man who took care of our boat all those years."

Leah asked for Bueno at the gas station and was told he was at the café. When they entered, Leah saw Bueno seating another couple, so she and Trapper waited at the front counter. The café was small with only a space across the long side for seating; a booth on either side of a narrow aisle.

Bueno came back to the counter and reached down for a set of menus before he looked up. His face brightened slowly as recognition took hold. "Leah, it's been ages. How are you?"

Smiling, she accepted a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "I'm fine, Bueno. This is a friend of mine, Dr. John McIntyre."

He nodded at Trapper. "Well, where's John and the kids?" His smile slowly faded at the pained expression on her face.

"Oh, Bueno," she said sadly after taking a deep breath. "Do you remember the accident down Highway 50 that involved a car and a log truck…about four years ago?"

"Do I? It closed the road for two days it was such a mess."

When Leah began to wring her hands, Trapper took Bueno to the side, speaking quietly. "She and her family were in that wreck. She's the only one who survived."

"Oh no," Bueno whispered. "She's still having a hard time, isn't she?" Trapper nodded. "Marty will want to see her, but I'll tell her this before she comes out of the back." Turning back to Leah, he said, "Why don't we get you seated, and I'll go find Marty. She'll be so happy to see you." Once they were seated on the same side of the booth, Bueno placed their menus on the table and offered them coffee, which they both accepted, before he disappeared into the back.

"Thank you, Trapper. I don't think I could have explained that."

He moved his arm around her shoulders and kissed the side of her head, opening a menu in front of them. "What's good?"

"Everything. And the servings are huge, so maybe we should split something. You pick. I'm not very hungry."

"Burgers?"

"Homemade buns, handmade patties…huge."

She elbowed Trapper gently in the ribs when she saw Bueno and Marty coming down the aisle. Leah stood, and Marty greeted her with a long hug. "Leah, it's been much too long. It's so good to see you."

"Marty, you haven't changed a bit. And you're still here. Last I heard, you two were looking to retire," said Leah. "Join us, please."

Motioning for Marty to sit down, Bueno said, "If you know what you want, I'll go ahead and get your orders in. We can talk while you wait."

Trapper closed the menu. "How about your favorite burger and fries? Leah tells me they're huge, so we're going to split one."

"I'm sorry, Marty," said Leah. "This is Dr. John McIntyre."

Holding his hand out across the table, he gently squeezed Marty's hand. "Just call me Trapper, Marty. It's nice to meet you both," he said with a bright smile.

After shaking hands with Trapper, Bueno excused himself. "I'll put your order in and be right back."

"Are you still at Fallen Leaf Lake, Leah?" asked Marty.

"Well, I still own the house, but I was thinking about swapping the rental for it. I thought I would be more comfortable in the Glenbrook house, but we just came from Fallen Leaf Lake. I have no idea what I'm going to do now."

Bueno came back with a fresh pot of coffee and two more cups. "You know, if you need anything at all while you're here, you come to us. Trapper, Leah and John were among our regulars. Of course, they always split the burgers, too. Most people do. What brings you back, Leah?"

"The houses, mainly, but I just needed to take some time off. I was going to go through the house, but…I put it off. We did bring the boat with us, though. You think you'll have time to give it a once over this afternoon?"

Bueno turned to look out the window. "Is it here? Oh yeah, there it is. Sure I can. John always took good care of it. I may need to drain the tanks, but there shouldn't be anything wrong with it. I'll have it ready for you tomorrow morning before we open. So are you two old friends? You say you're a doctor."

"No, I wouldn't say we're old friends," Trapper replied. "Leah and John were in LA, and I had only met him a couple of times at medical conventions. Leah's installing a new computer system at my hospital."

"Are you still in LA?"

"No," Leah answered, smiling. "I'm in San Francisco right now. Trapper is the Chief of Surgery at San Francisco Memorial Hospital."

"Chief of Surgery, huh. After listening to John all those years, I imagine that's more than a full-time job."

Trapper chuckled. "It is. Trust me."

Marty had been holding Leah's hand across the table, and moved to touch Trapper's arm. "How did you end up with that nickname?"

Looking over Marty and Buenos' heads, he gave them a half-laugh. "It's a long, embarrassing story."

"I don't even know it," added Leah.

A waitress came to the table with their food, placing a plate almost completely covered by the burger and a basket of fries in front. Looking down at the burger, Trapper arched an eyebrow. "I told you it was huge," said Leah, laughing.

"We're going to go back to work and let you two eat your lunch," said Bueno, standing and waiting for Marty to slide out of the booth. "Enjoy your burger," he said.

"Thanks. We'll see you before we leave. I still have to give you the key to the boat," said Leah. She picked up the steak knife that accompanied the burger and held it out to Trapper. "Why don't you do the honors," she said, laughing again.

He cut it in two and placed a half on the empty plate the waitress left them, moving it over in front of Leah. When he bit into his half, he rolled his eyes and then closed them. "Oh my. This is the best burger I've ever tasted."


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

After leaving Bueno with the boat keys, Trapper unhitched the boat, and Leah drove toward Glenbrook. "Is there anything specific you'd like to do before dinnertime…gambling, sightseeing…anything?" she asked Trapper.

"What would you do if you were alone?" he asked louder than normal because of the wind noise of the open Jeep.

She shouted back. "Now that I have my wetsuit, I'd swim. It's about time I started exercising. Or maybe christen the four wheel drive of this Jeep." A quick grin took over Trapper's face, making her laugh. "It looks like we're going down the side of a mountain."

"Going down a mountain road isn't really going to test this thing, is it?"

"Who said anything about a road?" she answered, still laughing.

Trapper sucked in a cheek with wide eyes. "You realize the mountains here are steep…rocky…treed."

She just laughed as she turned up Kingsbury Grade again. When they got to the pass, she turned toward Heavenly ski resort, but slowed down, looking down the side of the mountain, and when she found what she was looking for, she turned the Jeep over the side of the road and down the mountain. Trapper's hands went up to the roll bar even as he let out a yell one might hear on the big drop of a roller coaster.

"This is actually an old road."

"Where? I don't see anything that looks remotely like a road," he shouted.

"It's called Jack's Road. Before the Van Sickle toll road was built, which is the old Kingsbury Grade, this was the only road down into the valley which at the time was called Jack's Valley. That was, oh, around a hundred and fifty years ago. It was probably a little better road back then, but not by much." She stopped and looked around as if she was lost.

"What is it?" asked Trapper anxiously.

"I want to go up there…to the top of that hill," she said, pointing. "I'm just looking for the clearest track."

Trapper looked ahead of them and turned back to her with his nostrils flared. "Clearest…there is no clear track."

"Sure there is…up between those two trees it's clear all the way to the top."

"That's a rock face," he said, chuckling nervously.

Moving the shifter into first gear, she popped the clutch and shot up the hill, threading between the two trees and spinning the tires all the way up the rock face. When she reached the top of the hill, she looked back at Trapper. His eyes were squeezed closed, and his knuckles were white from holding onto the roll bar so tightly. By the time he let go of the bar and opened his eyes, she was out of the Jeep and scrambling to the top of a boulder, looking almost straight down into the valley. "Come up here with me, Trapper. The view is breathtaking." Climbing carefully up the boulder, he realized there was a sheer drop from both sides and the front of the boulder. "Now, tell me this view isn't worth the ride."

He glared at her. "The view is most definitely not worth that ride."

"You haven't even looked!" Biting her bottom lip, she slowly sidled up to him, lifting her eyes to see his. "Would it make it better if I said you can drive the rest of the way down?"

Crooking his jaw, he shook his head incredulously and moved his hands to his hips. "We could've been killed on the way up here," he said, seething.

"Not really. That's what the roll bar is for."

"You've been up here before, haven't you?"

She chuckled. "You bet. This is the sweetest spot to watch the sunset, and then count stars. We're beyond the light pollution from Heavenly, and there aren't many lights in the valley to obscure the starlight. The only reason I'm not begging you to stay is because I haven't been out here for a long time, and I'm not sure the road still goes all the way through. I don't want to get caught in the dark."

Twisting his mouth, he looked at her for a moment and breathed deeply. "I'm driving out of here. And we are going to take it slow." She frowned and nodded. "And the next time we come up here for a picnic, we're wearing helmets." When she moved to throw her arms around his neck, he caught them before she took them both off the side of the boulder. "Down there," he said with an arched eyebrow, nodding toward the Jeep.

Arriving at the Jeep, Leah threw her arms around Trapper's neck, and both laughed, clinging to each other in a warm embrace followed by a kiss as intense as the hug. They climbed in the Jeep, and Trapper backed it up, but stopped before he pulled forward, looking down the rock she had driven up. He gave Leah a sideways glance before looking back down the rock face.

"There's a trick to this," she said.

"Mm hm. I'll have to keep the wheels rolling on the rock face. If I hit the duff with the wheels locked up, I'll slide, and I won't have control, so I won't be able to steer through those two trees."

Raising her eyebrows, she nodded. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive? At least if I don't do it right, it will be me wrecking my Jeep…not you."

He smirked. "Just hold on." Using the brakes off and on to get down the rock face, he let up off the brakes right before they hit the pine needle covered ground and rolled through the trees. Without stopping, he shifted gears, giving Leah a quick pretentious smile and continuing down the hill. In another half hour, he pulled out on the newer Kingsbury Grade. "Where to now?"

"I thought we'd drive through Genoa, and then head out to Gardnerville for dinner at a Basque restaurant. Have you ever had Basque food?"

"Yes, but I'm not sure how authentic it was. I have a friend in San Francisco who's Basque. I took care of him while he was at the hospital as a patient, and after I released him, he brought in some Basque food."

At Genoa, they stopped in front of a building touted to be the 'Oldest Thirst Parlor in Nevada.' "Is that true?" asked Trapper, walking arm and arm with Leah toward the building.

"It's true. The bar was built in the early eighteen hundreds, and it's functioned as a bar non-stop ever since." They stepped into the darkness of a single room with only three tables plus the bar. The rest of the room was occupied by a pool table. "There were gunfights here, though no one was ever killed. Up there on the antlers is Raquel Welch's bra. A good number of country singers have played in this bar, and several movies were shot here." Sitting on a bar stool, Leah patted the stool next to her. "We have to have a beer so you can say you've been here and had one."

As they drank their beers, Trapper studied the mirror behind the bar in front of him. "That's original, isn't it?"

"Yes. That mirror traveled around the horn and got here by covered wagon. If you get right up on it and shine a flash light into it, you can see the diamond dust it's made with. The chandeliers above us are original, too, but were converted to electric at some point. And you can say you drank at a bar that Sam Clemens frequented as well as President Grant, Teddy Roosevelt, Carol Lombard and Clark Gable among others. Clark Gable used to come here for high-stakes poker."

After Trapper had a chance to look around, they drove to Gardnerville where they dined in a Basque restaurant. The proprietor, Belasco Zornoza, who had known Leah since she and John had arrived at the lake, insisted the two join his family for a traditional Basque meal. Belasco and Trapper laughed all through dinner, and afterword, Belasco proudly showed Trapper rubbings of hundred-year-old Basque aspen carvings.

On the way home, Trapper asked Leah about those rubbings. "I'd like to take some back. Do you know where I can buy them?"

"I can do better than that. I can take you to a grove of aspen where you can make your own."

"I would have thought that was a highly guarded secret."

"It is, but I happened upon some in Hope Valley. It was in the fall, and I was walking through the aspen there taking pictures. We have quaking aspen here. They turn bright yellow in the fall, but what makes them so sought after for pictures is what the wind does to them. The leaves don't blow like other trees. They sort of wobble in the wind, and the way they catch the light, they look like they sparkle in yellow. Belasco confirmed that was one of the groves where his rubbings came from."

"It'll be dark by the time we get back to the house, and we'll be on the lake tomorrow."

"We can go home through Hope Valley. The road comes out near Placerville, so we can take Highway 50 from there." She bowed her head while her hands fidgeted. "I'll be going home either that way or by I-80 anyway. I don't want to drive 50 by the river." Trapper reached over for her hands and smiled reassuringly as he waited for the gate to open at Glenbrook.

As they entered the house, Leah asked, "Would you like something to drink; maybe some hot tea?"

"That would be nice," he said, bringing the hand he was holding up to his lips and kissing it.

Turning into him, she placed her hands on his chest, prompting him to move his arms around her and rest his hands on her behind. "Why don't you sit out on the deck? The stars ought to be bright tonight. I'll be out with hot tea in a few minutes."

He smiled and kissed her gently, then watched her go to the kitchen before he left for the deck. Sitting in one of the reclining deck chairs, he clasped his hands behind his head and enjoyed the view while he thought about the day. It had started pleasant enough, but he had been prepared for the worst when he saw her face upon their arrival at the house. When she saw the neatly hung sets of skis, he was sure they would spend the rest of day at the Glenbrook house. She had recovered from their time at the Fallen Leaf Lake house more quickly than he thought possible. The rest of the day was quite enjoyable. She had shown him so many sights in the area, and there seemed so much more to see and do, he was beginning to regret that they had to go back day after tomorrow. Well, he had to go back. She really didn't, but would she?

"Here we go," she said, setting a tray on the table between the two lounge chairs. "This is one of my two favorite times of day here. The other is early morning. How do you take your tea?"

"Do you have honey?"

"Yes. Honey it is. Any milk?"

"Uh…no."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"No."

"I see," she said, passing his cup of tea to him, and then making her own. She held her cup in front of him. "I want you to try this." He cut wary eyes toward her. "Please." Taking a small sip, he grunted, and handed the cup back. "Well?" Lifting his cup, he smiled without a word.

"Oh. That's the way it's going to be. You know, you can say you don't like it. It won't hurt my feelings."

Laughing, he took her free hand. "Are you sure?" She raised her eyebrows. "I don't like it."

Harrumphing, she swung her feet up on the lounge chair and leaned back, sipping her tea.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

Trapper lay on his back, watching the dancing shadows created by the sheers blowing in the breeze, seeing Leah as wisps of motion, dancing among them. She was a chameleon, shifting from one personality to another in the changing parts of her life. She was a capable, astute businesswoman in her chosen field tough enough to deal with male egos, she could be as elegant as any woman he'd ever known, she had a vulnerable side she hid for so long, and now he discovered she had a love of adventure. She was also a very passionate woman. Though she was subdued their first night together, maybe even a little frightened at a very personal experience she hadn't known for over four years and with a man with whom she had never shared that part of her; a man other than her husband, she had allowed him to love her. Afterwards, she said she was letting her past go, and if her love making this night was any indication, she had indeed let that part go.

As she lay next to him with her head upon his shoulder and a hand upon on his chest, he knew she wasn't sleeping. Her breathing wasn't deep, her body wasn't completely relaxed and he could feel her eyelashes moving occasionally against his skin. "Why aren't you asleep? You should be exhausted." He rolled toward her, moving his free arm over her and drawing her into him.

She shifted, straightening her legs and moving her head so she could see his face. "I've never sleep very well…unless I'm exhausted," she answered softly. "I guess I'm not as tired as you thought."

"Why don't you sleep?" he asked, kissing her nose. "I can give you something to help you, you know."

"I don't sleep because of nightmares…usually. I've been avoiding sleep for so long I guess I do it automatically now. But I don't think that's the problem tonight."

"What is it then?" he whispered as he nuzzled her neck.

"I'm not looking forward to going back. I mean…" she stopped talking when his lips found hers on his way to the other side of her neck. "I like the technical aspect of what I do, but I'm not looking forward to dealing with all the rest; Doug, Mark…and you in your capacity as a department chief."

Enveloping her, he kissed her so fervently she felt the same heated rush she had felt earlier that night. "We have another day and night before we have to go back," he said, breathing deeply. "I intend to see that you enjoy every minute."

When Trapper opened his eyes, he knew she was gone before he even looked over. He didn't feel her. Flying up out of the bed, he grabbed his robe and looked out on the deck, in the bathroom, in each bedroom. He ran down the stairs to the kitchen, and when he didn't find her there or in the living room, he went to the garage and stopped, taking a deep breath. Her car was still there. So was his. But she was nowhere in the house, and it was still dark outside.

Walking out onto the deck, he stood at the rail and listened for awhile, but only heard the water lapping at the boulders and the wind blowing the boughs of the trees and the leaves of the shrubs. He had no idea where she could've gone, and the longer she was gone, the more concerned he became. He was startled out of his thoughts when a loud scream came from the trees above and to the right of him; shrieks so loud and strange, he shrank back. As he was moving away from the trees, he spotted movement in the water ahead of him and watched as a something dark and sleek glided smoothly through the water toward him. Between the screaming above him and the water critter in front of him, he thought about standing on the inside of the French doors, but when the lake creature slowly rose, he squinted and realized the creature was a person… with womanly curves, wearing a snug wetsuit.

As she walked out of the water, she pulled the zipper down the front of her wetsuit and began to pull her arms out as she made her way to the deck. By the time she was up on the deck, the top of the wetsuit hung limply at her waist, leaving her top half bare. Leaning back on the rail with his arms crossed, he watched admiringly as she went by him to a towel she had left over the back of a chair.

"Why are you grinning like a Cheshire cat?" she asked, grinning back. "This is nothing you haven't seen before." She proceeded to peel the rest of the wetsuit down, stepping out and hanging it over the rail.

"Somehow it doesn't quite look the same as it did in the OR," he replied, chuckling

After brushing her hair out, she went to him, untying his robe and moving in against him. "Why are you so cold?" he asked, pulling his robe around her and encircling her with his arms. "I thought the wetsuit was supposed to keep you warm.

"It does for the most part, but not completely. And then when I get out of the water, what warmth I had wears off quickly with nothing on, especially this early in the morning. But you're warm, so problem solved," she said, snickering at his shiver as she moved her arms around him underneath the robe, pressing into him. "I'm sorry if I worried you again. I thought you'd still be sleeping when I got back."

He jerked when the shrieking in the trees began again. "What the hell is that?" he asked, moving one arm up to her shoulders as if protecting her from the unknown.

"Relax. It's reproductive physiology at its finest, though it's not the right time of year for that. Strange," she said worriedly, looking up into the trees. "Maybe it's because it's been a mild year."

"But what _is_ it?" he asked again insistently.

She reached up and pinched his nose. "The raccoons are gettin' busy in the trees." He lowered his head, looking at her from under his brow and flared his nostrils while the corners of his mouth turned up. "Don't get any ideas," she said, poking her finger in his chest. "We're supposed to be picking up the boat from Bueno this morning, and I still have to take a shower. Now, come on," she said, taking his hand and pulling him into the house. "We have to get ready to go."

Once upstairs, she went straight into the shower and turned on the water. She squealed when she realized he had followed her in. "Wha…what are you doing?"

He gave her an innocent look. "Taking a shower. You've got a two person shower here. What's the problem?"

"You have no modesty, do you?"

He was already under the water of the opposite shower head. "You never struck me as the modest type either," he said, soaping up. "You just walked in half naked from the lake."

"There is no problem as long as you're here to bathe. Otherwise, we'll be late."

Reaching out quickly, he dragged her over to his side of the shower, moving his hands behind her and soaping her back as he leaned down for a kiss wet from the water falling over them. With a wicked smile, he asked, "And what if I'm not just here to bathe?" Upon seeing her peeved squint, his smile disappeared even as he put the soap in her hand and turned his back to her, leaning against the shower wall. "Just return the favor."

In the bedroom as they were dressing, Leah sat on the side of the bed and rubbed her forehead. "What's wrong?" asked Trapper.

"Nothing," she said, smiling weakly. "I'm just suddenly tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

He sat on the bed next to her and spoke with quiet concern. "That may not be the problem."

"There's nothing wrong."

"Maybe," he answered calmly, smiling. "How far did you swim this morning?"

"Oh, about a mile down the beach, and then the mile back. I was only going to go half a mile, but I felt good, so I kept going."

"Leah, I told you that you'd have to work back up to what you used to do. Two miles was probably too much." He studied her for a moment. "I'm driving the boat today. I want you to sit and relax. And before we leave," he said, standing and walking over to a chair where he had placed his medical bag, "I'm giving you a once over." When he was finished listening to her heart and breathing, he checked her blood pressure. "Any nausea or dizziness with the tired feeling."

"No," she snapped. "This is no way to live."

He exhaled heavily. "You won't have to live like this. You just need to give yourself time to heal. Swimming is a very good exercise to start with, but you _can_ overdo it."

"What did Bueno say to you when you offered to pay for his work on the boat?" asked Leah as she climbed into the boat and took the picnic basket from Trapper.

"He said seeing you again and knowing you're well was payment enough." He leaned over the back of the Jeep, taking what he could hold to hand up to her. "He also said he really didn't have to do that much." Smiling up at her, he handed her the wetsuit, snorkel and fins, towels and a duffle containing odds and ends. He went back for the cooler, hefted it out of the Jeep and brought it over to the boat. Before he lifted it over his head, he said, "For someone who didn't have friends, didn't want friends, didn't need friends, you seem to have a lot of friends." He growled as he lifted the cooler to the side of the boat. "Don't try to move it. Just hold it there while I climb in," he warned. Once in, he took the cooler and set it between the two front seats, sliding it in the pathway to the bow. "Is that everything?"

"Yes. Why don't you untie her and back her in? I'll meet you over at the dock."

Trapper backed the boat into the water, giving it a push off the trailer. When Leah got it started, she slowly backed the boat away from the ramp and waved. Parking the Jeep in the lot near the guard house, he trotted to the dock and found Leah waiting for him. "All right my dear, sit back and enjoy the ride. Which way to Emerald Bay?" he asked, sitting with one leg underneath him.

She pointed, and he pushed the control arm down, moving slowly until he was beyond the speed buoys, then bringing her up to speed. Leaning toward her, he shouted, "Why the deep hull?"

"In a bad storm, the waves here can get pretty big. They can easily swamp a smaller boat," she yelled back. "Why don't you slow down a little and enjoy it? We have plenty of time to go around the lake."

Trapper slowed down, staying several hundred yards away from the busy south shore of the lake. Turning north along the west shore, they saw historic homes in the area of Camp Richardson. "These old lake homes were certainly grand, weren't they?" asked Trapper.

"You're right. There aren't many small ones. The ones that aren't privately owned are usually open for tours if that interests you. There are also ruins here and near the Fallen Leaf Lake house. There was a large saw mill right down from the house along with an estate. In fact, the pylons you see in the water off the shore at Glenbrook were part of a large pier that served the largest sawmill in these parts. That mill was the one that processed the lumber from the basin that is now under the ground around Virginia City." She rose on her knees, leaning on the back of the seat. "Emerald Bay is just up ahead. You'll want to go to the center of the mouth of the bay to enter," she instructed, prompting Trapper to rise on his knees.

"No wake speed, I assume?" asked Trapper.

Leah smiled and nodded as she looked into the bay. She'd always loved Emerald Bay more than any other part of the lake. It wasn't prone to the choppiness of the lake, and the clarity of the water here was better than other areas of shore because the silt from the bottom and the shore in the bay didn't get churned up. The morning sun made the little ripples in the water glisten like twinkling lights. It was early for lake traffic, so they mostly had the entire bay to themselves.

"Well, we can go take a look at Vikingsholm or climb up to the tea house on that little island up ahead. Or if you prefer, you can go in and take a look at some of the wrecks on the floor of the bay. The clarity here is extraordinary."

"It's a little early in the morning for swimming, isn't it?" he asked as he looked up at the top of the rock that was Fannette Island."

Following his gaze, Leah said, "That's Mrs. Knight's tea house. She's the one who had the castle built," she said pointing toward the end of the bay.

An open-mouthed smile appeared on Trapper's face. "Remarkable."

"This island is the only one in the lake, and the waterfall," she said pointing above Vikingsholm, "is the only one that falls directly into the lake. And of course, the mansion is touted as one of the finest examples of Scandinavian architecture in the country."

"Having no idea what Heaven looks like, I can only surmise this is as close as it gets," said Trapper, taking it all in. "What I'd really like to do is spend some significant time here. That's time we don't have today."

"Back there on the right is a boat-in campground. Maybe we can plan some time to come back and camp and do some hiking," she replied, smiling and receiving a grin and a nod in return. The campground is on the site of the old Emerald Bay Lodge, and the Rubicon Trail runs right through it." Standing next to him, she watched him look back at Vikingsholm. "You know, you were standing up there in the middle of the top of that waterfall yesterday."

"Mm. I remember," he said, moving his arm around her and drawing her into his side. He steered the boat around Fannette Island and headed back to the mouth of the bay. "What's next?"

"What you'll see besides the natural beauty of the lake is mostly old mansions. Lake Tahoe was the playground of California's rich just before and after the turn of the century. There are even some of their old turn-of-the-century wooden boats left that come out at the end of the summer for the Concours d'Elegance here on the lake."

Trapper took his time moving around the lake, paying careful attention to the manmade as well as nature-made features. When it came time for lunch, he asked Leah where she'd like to stop. "I thought we might stop at Secret Cove. It's just a little further east from here."

"What's so special about Secret Cove?"

"It's a favorite of the locals for swimming and picnicking, and the only way to get to it is by boat or by a very steep path. It's also has one of the most beautiful and pristine beaches on the lake, probably because it's so hard to get to. The people who go there tend to take excellent care of it." Leah took the wheel of the boat and guided it in, maneuvering around submerged boulders and finally stopping. "We can drop the anchor here. Trapper?"

Standing with his hands on his hips looking out toward the beach, he asked puckishly, "Is there something else you particularly like about this beach?" He turned back around to see her sans clothes, sitting on the side of the boat with her legs hanging over.

She giggled as she dropped into the water, and when she came to the surface, she laughed. "It's clothing optional. Would you please drop the anchor and come in? If you're not comfortable without, you can still wear your trunks. I doubt anyone will care one way or another."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter Fifty**

Trapper and Leah arrived back at the marina just as the sun set below the western mountain range. They pulled the boat back to the Fallen Leaf Lake house, loaded the back of the Jeep and then headed for Glenbrook. "You look tired," said Trapper before he cranked the Jeep to leave.

"Long day," she said with her head laid back on the seat.

"You've only eaten once today. I'll bet your blood sugar is too low."

She yawned. "You only ate once today, too."

Leaning over to her and turning her face toward his, he said, "I'm not working back up from heart surgery," and then kissed her lips. "Where shall we have dinner?" he asked, brushing her hair back away from her face.

"I'd really just like to go home, get packed and go to bed."

"You can do that after you eat something."

She giggled. "You wouldn't be hungry, would you?"

Arching an eyebrow, he grunted, "Mm hm," and kissed her again.

"The Beacon, then. It's on the way back to Glenbrook. They have an outside deck right by the lake. Turn left at Camp Richardson and go all the way to the end of the road."

It was well past dark by the time they arrived at The Beacon. The hostess led them through the interior of the restaurant out to the deck and seated them at a table for two close to the rail where they had a view of the lake licking the shore, but not much beyond that. It was a dark night, the moon having yet to make an appearance. A ghostly fog moved over the water toward them, making Leah shiver.

"Are you cold? Our jackets are in the Jeep."

"No, I'm not cold. It's the way the fog moves over the lake. It seems rather…chilling."

"There's actually something here that scares you?" Trapper asked with a slight teasing smile."

"I'm not comfortable in the fog alone. Someone or some_thing_ could be right on top of you before you knew it. I guess that's a holdover from San Francisco. I really didn't care before I moved there."

"I thought you enjoyed San Francisco."

"Well, watching it from the relative safety of the deck at my apartment, yes. And during the day, that's okay, too. But no; I don't typically go out by myself at night. When I get home from work in the dark, I…"

Trapper reached across the table and took her hand. "You what?"

"I get more and more frightened, the closer I get to my door, and when I'm finally inside my apartment, I can't get the locks thrown fast enough. Then I have to stop and calm down." Trapper's smile was gone, his eyes piercing, his jaw set. She met his eyes and saw the same fierce protectiveness she used to see in John's. "I've never really lived alone, Trapper. I left my parents house for college and lived in a sorority house, and from there, I married John. I love the wharf…during the day, and in the early evening, but late at night after everything closes, dark characters come out and roam the streets. Every now and then you hear a scream or what sounds like a gunshot."

"I was under the impression things had gotten better on the wharf."

"Better?"

"Well, the wharf was a fairly rough place until it was cleaned up in the last decade. Apparently, there's still some cleaning up to do."

"I was under the impression that a good bit of downtown San Francisco is dangerous at night."

"There are some places you generally don't want to go if you're alone. I didn't realize the wharf was still one of them. Maybe you should move away from the wharf…into one of the safer neighborhoods."

She smiled. "I should wait to find out where my next assignment will be. Even though Doug promised he would talk to me before I was assigned, there's still no guarantee it will be in San Francisco. But that's well down the road, and it depends on what the hospital wants to do for turnover."

"Have you decided what you'd like to order?" asked the waiter who had approached their table unnoticed.

They both picked up their menus and looked quickly. "I'll have the lamb," said Leah, "and water to drink."

"The filet, medium rare, and a glass of red Bordeaux," said Trapper, handing the waiter his menu and continuing the conversation with Leah. "Turnover?"

"Well, yes. We don't stay forever. We just implement the system. The hospital will have to hire its own staff for maintenance, and if they're good enough, the upgrades." Dropping his gaze, Trapper exhaled. "You knew I wouldn't be at San Francisco Memorial forever."

Looking back up, he took a deep breath and forced a smile. "I did. It's just…I guess I never thought about it quite the same way…" he reached out to her hand again, "…that I'm thinking about it now."

Their eyes locked for a moment until the waiter set their drinks on the table. Leah sat back and looked away, feeling the warmth of her blush while Trapper absently thanked the waiter as he watched her. "Leah, we have some time to figure this out." Her smile didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Hey, we had wonderful day," he said, offering a half smile that got a chuckle out of her.

"You really don't expect me to believe that you've never gone skinny dipping, do you? Besides, that wasn't exactly skinny dipping, was it?"

"I believe the definition is swimming naked."

"I always thought it had to be clandestine to be called skinny dipping. There is nothing covert going on at Secret Cove." He gave her a stuffy gaze. "Come on," she said, returning a sideways glance. "It's very…liberating… don't you think?" A low rumble started as Trapper stroked his beard trying not to smile. "Admit it, doctor. You liked it."

He smirked. "The company, perhaps. Maybe in warmer water it wouldn't have been so…breathtaking."

"Don't blame skinny dipping. It wouldn't have made any difference whether you were naked or not. Swimming trunks wouldn't change the water temperature."

It took him a minute to acquiesce, but eventually, he offered, "True."

She took his hand from its position on the table and squeezed it, leaning in. "You seemed as if you enjoyed it," she said quietly with raised eyebrows and an impish grin. She waited and watched as he twisted his mouth fighting the grin that was trying to escape.

Finally, he chuckled and shook his head. "Part of it, yes. Now, can we change the subject?"

"What are you doing?" asked Trapper as he stepped into her back and craned his head over her shoulder while his hands rested on her hips.

"I'm writing myself a reminder to call the management company tomorrow before we leave to ask them to arrange for the house to be cleaned and to continue renting it. When I come back, it will most likely be to deal with the other house. And I'm writing another note to make sure I don't forget my swimming gear." She set the pencil down on the piece of paper she shoved to the middle of the counter, and then turned around, moving her arms over his shoulders. "I'm going to start swimming off Ocean Beach. It's long, so I can swim up and back, and that will just about do it."

"I don't want you to deal with the house alone," he said, kissing her forehead

When she hugged him, laying her head on his chest, he settled his chin over her head. "We'll see. Your work schedule isn't exactly easy to work around."

"It's not the schedule. It's the unscheduled emergencies." She yawned. "Are you still tired?"

Moving away, she sighed and frowned. "Yes, but it is ten thirty," she answered, leaning to the side to see the kitchen clock.

"I'll lock up. Why don't you go on up to bed?" He kissed her and walked her to the bottom of the stairs, sending her up with an affectionate pat on her behind. By the time he joined her in the bedroom, she was already underneath the covers. "You didn't waste any time," he said while undressing. She only grunted. When he climbed into bed and leaned over her, she was sound asleep. He pressed two fingers against her neck to check her pulse and watched her chest move up and down, deciding that she was, indeed, just sleeping. Pulling the sheet and blanket over him, he snuggled up against her and was soon asleep himself.

Leaning over the back of Leah's Jeep, Trapper dropped her duffle behind the back seats. "Did you pack a brick?"

"No," she said, giggling. "My wetsuit and snorkeling stuff are in there."

"Is that everything?"

"Yep. All we need to do is stop at the fabric store for some muslin and the candle shop for wax. Then we're off to the aspens."

"Uh, no."

"No?" she said, cranking the Jeep and moving the shifter into reverse.

"You, young lady, are going to have breakfast. No more skipping meals," he said, leaning into the Jeep for a kiss.

She saluted him and answered happily, "Sir, yes sir. Then we are going to The Hut…best breakfast in town. Now, if you'll move, I'll back this thing out and you can close the garage door. I'll meet you at the end of the driveway."

She waited only a minute until Trapper's red RX-7 pulled up behind her. Waving, she turned up the hill toward the main road and led him to The Red Hut where they ate waffles for breakfast. The fabric store was closed, so there was no point going by the candle shop for the wax. "I'm sorry, Trapper. I didn't think about it being Sunday. But we can still go see the carvings if you'd like, and when we get home, I'll call Belasco and ask him where we can find some rubbings."

"It's alright," he said with a smile. "We'll be back, won't we? We can try the rubbings then, and if they don't turn out, then we'll go back to Gardnerville."

"Do you want to see them anyway? I brought a camera back from the Fallen Leaf house, so you can take some pictures to show off."

"Lead the way."

The two drove out of South Lake Tahoe on Highway 50 and turned left onto Luther Pass Road into Hope Valley. It was much too early for the aspen to be turning yellow, but the grove off to the left was still handsome with its light green leaves quaking in the breeze and its white trunks in stark contrast. Leah and Trapper walked through the fence gate and into the heart of the grove until she stopped and looked up, turning round and round. "We're here," she said, smiling serenely at the sound of the wind whispering through the leaves of the aspen. "Look here," she said, trotting off in one direction to a tree with a carving of a bird. Trapper walked up behind her and focused the camera, snapping a picture. She pointed behind them and ran excitedly to another tree. "This one is signed and dated," she said.

Running his fingers over the bark of the tree, he felt where the tree had tried to heal itself over the carving, making the cuts seem deeper. "This is an old one…eighteen eighty-nine," Trapper said. "I wonder who he was thinking about when he carved this."

"His wife, maybe?" Or a girlfriend. She's rather buxom, isn't she?"

Many of the carvings were of names and dates. They had to look carefully for carved figures. When Trapper had a dozen or so, he let the camera hang from the strap around his neck, and reached out for Leah. "Come 'ere," he said, surrounding her with his arms. "How many people do you think know about this grove?"

"I'm sure some of the locals do, but not many tourists, and the ones who do were probably brought out here by a local and sworn to secrecy. Take it all in, Trapper. These individuals are very old, and they're dying. And when they do, the Basque carvings die with them." Trapper took several more pictures of the grove before they left.

Trapper and Leah were back at her apartment by six in the evening. Taking her duffle from the back of the Jeep, he escorted her up to her apartment door where she found a note taped to the door.

She pulled it off and read it to herself. "Oh no."

"What is it?"

"It's Marilyn. It didn't work out."

"What didn't work out?"

"Do you remember I told you that I'd have to give up my apartment if the woman I leased from decided married life wasn't for her?" He nodded. "Well, I guess she's decided married life isn't for her. I have a week to get out." She dropped her hand to her side and fell back against the door. "Now what?"

Trapper pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. "Shall we?" he said, motioning for her to lead the way inside. He deposited the duffle on her bed, and went back out of the bedroom to find her leaning on the half wall of the deck.

"I'm going to miss this place," she said sadly.

He moved his arms around her and stood against her back. "I thought you were frightened living on the wharf."

"I'm not frightened up here. Look at the view." Sighing, she added, "I don't want to leave."

"Are you going to be able to get all this out by next week?"

Leaning back against him, she placed her hands on his arms crossed in front of her. "The furniture isn't mine. It's hers. I have a few boxes, my clothes and some odds and ends. A couple of trips in the Jeep ought to do it. I guess I'll move into a hotel until I can find another place."

"Why go to a hotel? Stay with me."

He loosened his hold as she turned in his arms to face him. "I'm not sure that's a good idea." Taking a deep breath, he exhaled loudly as he pursed his lips. "Trapper," she said, moving her hand to the side of his face and running her thumb over his lips, "We've had some wonderful days away from our normal lives. I'm not sure living under the same roof, even for a few days, when both of us are returning to our jobs at the same hospital with two completely different sets of priorities is something we need right now."

"I don't agree. You can have a separate bedroom, and with you working normal hours, the likelihood of us seeing that much of each other outside the hospital is slim because," he chuckled, "my hours are not normal."

"Did you just hear what you said? You're standing here telling me that I should stay with you because I won't see you. Is that how you've arranged your life since your divorce? Not that I'm even thinking about marriage myself, but if we're going to continue this…whatever this is, I would certainly want see you away from the hospital."

He dropped his hands to his sides, and she stepped away. "It's already started, hasn't it?" she sighed. "We're not even back at work yet."

He took her hand and pulled her back into him. "Are you giving up before we even get started?"

"No," she said emphatically, looking into his eyes. I'm just…scared, I guess, that our jobs will ruin this."

Moving a hand to her cheek, he smiled. "We just have to give it a chance…and work out the rough spots as they come up. Now, will you please consider occupying my spare bedroom instead of moving into a hotel?"

"If I can't find a place in the next week, I'll..." she winced uncomfortably, "…stay at your place…until I can find something."

"Good. Now, we still have a few hours left. What shall we do?"

Stepping into his arms, she slowly moved her arms around his neck, and began swaying back and forth, smiling up at him. "We could put on some slow music."

"And dance," he said as he began to move with her.

"And we could order dinner in and spend the rest of the evening here."

Nodding slightly, smiling, and hovering his lips near hers, he whispered, "And have a last hurrah before it's finally over," before he slowly and tenderly kissed her.

"Something like that," she said softly, touching his lips, her mouth opening to his next kiss.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter Fifty-One**

"Hey, Trapper!" yelled Gonzo who was just coming out of the Titanic as Trapper was exiting his car. Trapper continued toward the hospital as Gonzo trotted to catch up. "How'd it go?"

"How'd what go?"

"Tahoe? Leah? Is she coming back?"

"She's coming back. In fact, there's her Jeep," Trapper replied, pointing across the parking lot.

"But what about you two?" asked Gonzo, almost tripping over the curb.

Trapper stopped. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to kiss and tell?" he asked with furrowed brows, and then continued to the hospital. Gonzo stood still with a smile slowly appearing on his face as he watched Trapper go.

Leah stopped short just as she stepped into her cubical. An arrangement of flowers sat in the middle of her desk. She thought to herself that this wasn't business as usual as she had hoped her return would be treated. Taking a deep breath, she set her briefcase aside, and removing the card stick from the flowers, she wilted a little when she saw who they were from. She winced when she heard a throat being cleared behind her, and slowly turned.

"Welcome back," said Mark with a smile.

"Thank you, Mark. They're beautiful."

"They're really more of a 'thank you' for saving my job."

Chuckling, she moved around her desk and sat down in her chair, running her hands over the arms and inwardly smiling at the feel of being in charge again. "Mark, part of me feels that I owe you an apology and part of me doesn't. You know I had to do what I did. You quite visibly ignored policy." She sighed. "But the other side of me…the human side…understands why you did it. Please, sit down," she said, indicating the chair in front of her desk. "I recommended you for a promotion when I left. Why did you turn it down?"

"You already know the answer to that," Mark replied, slowly lowering himself into the chair.

"I want to hear it from you."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Besides my feelings for you, I honestly think that us as a team are more successful than we would be split up. I know what you want, and I know how you want it done. Do you really want to train another tech lead to know that?"

She looked at him for a moment before she answered. He was right. It would take a long time and a lot of frustration to train someone else. And considering she had been told to slow down, the added stress of training someone new on top of the job itself was something that Dr. Gates and Trapper wanted her to avoid. However, holding onto Mark for that reason was selfish, and certainly didn't do him any favors if he ever wanted to advance. "Mark, I would agree with your assessment of us as a team, but part of my job is to advance the talent I develop. You're ready, and staying here working for me could hurt your career."

"You sound like you want to get rid of me."

"Do you want me to be honest?"

"Always."

"Your feelings for me make me uncomfortable. You and I will never happen, Mark. I don't want you to stay here because you think it will."

Both turned when they heard a knock on the side of her sliding door. "I'll come back later," said Trapper.

"No, wait. We're finished," she said, standing. "Mark, I want you to give that some serious thought. I can still get you your own team."

When Trapper stepped into the office, the vase of roses he was carrying came into view, causing Mark to stop on his way out. He looked at the flowers, and then looked awkwardly at Trapper before he glanced at Leah and quickly left her cube.

Trapper twisted his mouth when he saw the flowers on Leah's desk. "I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd…"

"Are those for me?" she asked, grinning and moving Mark's flowers to one forward corner of her desk.

"Welcome back," he said, moving around her desk, putting an arm around her and leaning in to kiss her.

"They're beautiful," she said, smelling them. "Put them on the table, please."

"How does it feel to be back?"

"To tell you the truth, I haven't done a darn thing. And I have a note here requesting my presence in Mr. Slocum's conference room in…" she looked at her watch, "…fifteen minutes."

"Hm. I got the same message."

She left her office ahead of him, and as they were walking to the elevator, she said, "Why does this feel like I've been called to the principal's office?"

"Dr. McIntyre, Ms. Haverty, this is Donald Barnett from The Joint Committee, and this is Rachel Frost from the Department of Health. I've asked the two of you to come to this meeting because you were both directly involved in the incident that produced the audit reports sent to both organizations for non-compliance with restricted surgeries."

Trapper looked at Leah, both taking a deep breath. It seemed that Leah was going to have to face the same subject on her second first day back to work. Apparently, both were going to have to answer questions with the entire hospital board present.

After everyone was seated, Mr. Barnett from The Joint Committee began the meeting. "We're here to discuss the incident where a child received restricted surgery without the appropriate approvals. First let me say that this isn't an inquest, and we're not interested in heads rolling. What we want most to hear is that corrective measures have taken place. Now, as I understand it, Dr. McIntyre, you were involved in the restricted surgery, as a surgical assistant. Dr. Howard Davies was the primary."

"That's correct."

"And what problem did you and Dr. Davies have getting the surgery scheduled?"

"We couldn't get it scheduled without the proper authorization. Mr. Slocum was away from the hospital, and there was no one else with the authority to approve the surgery. The computer system prevented us from ordering all the proper equipment, drugs and materials…even scheduling the operating room…without that authorization. The departments are instructed to only fill those orders when the appropriate approval comes to them through the system."

"In your opinion, Ms. Haverty, did the system work as it was designed?"

"Yes, it did."

"Then why was the solution to the problem a system solution? Barnett shuffled some papers before he continued. "A member of your staff changed a birth date in order for the system to allow the scheduling of the surgery?"

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. "Yes, that's correct."

"How was that possible?"

Under the conference table, Trapper moved his hand to hers and squeezed before she began the explanation. Everyone sat quietly and listened, and after the details, she summarized. "So, Mr. Barnett, the birth date field has to allow zeros because new admissions must get their eligibility information, which includes their date of birth from the state and insurance systems. That occurs the evening of their admission, and can't be done any other way because the outside systems don't allow real time access. It's not really a hole in the system. It's a documented constraint. The system is working the way it was designed. The policy the system supports was flawed."

Barnett turned to Slocum. "And what have you done to correct the policy?"

"We will be adding five additional staff members who can authorize exceptions. Dr. McIntyre, our Chief of Surgery," said Arnold, nodding toward Trapper, "is next in line behind me. After that is our Chief of Emergency Services, and the heads of Cardiology, Neurology and Gynecology and Obstetrics."

"Do you believe that is adequate to resolve the issue, Ms. Haverty?"

"No. I don't. I don't think a non-medical member of the board should have that authority. This is no slight to you, Mr. Slocum, but I think anyone making that decision should have a medical background. I also don't think you need to go beyond Dr. McIntyre and Dr. Riverside, the Chief of Emergency services. Each of them should have a trained backup to whom they would delegate that authority if both were unavailable. All of the exceptions are surgical, and who better to determine the validity of the exception than Dr. McIntyre and his staff or Dr. Riverside and his staff who make quick, life and death decisions on a daily basis. Both of these men understand the effect of inappropriate surgeries on accreditation. In doing this, it is unlikely that anyone beyond Dr. McIntyre's staff, and maybe Dr. Riverside will be required to act. That will prevent what you're most interested in preventing, Mr. Barnett, and that is surgical procedures being performed that have the highest fraud history. This arrangement is already working well in the hospitals where we've implemented similar systems."

Looking around the room, Mr. Barnett allowed the individual discussions to come to an end before he asked, "Are there any objections to Ms. Haverty's recommendations?" He looked around the table. "Good. Mr. Slocum, I look forward to receiving a copy of your hospital's updated policy documents as I'm sure Ms. Frost will also want." She nodded. "This audit is completed. If you have any questions, you know where to contact us."

Slocum stood. I'd like the board members to stay for a few minutes. Dr. McIntyre and Ms. Haverty, thank you for your time and input."

Standing in the elevator, Trapper glared at Leah. "Thanks," he said irritably.

"Look," she said, turning and furrowing her brow. "You know you're the best judge. Besides that, you're so darn respected I don't see anyone questioning your judgment. I, for one, am quite comfortable with it because I don't believe you would do anything to put the hospital at risk, and I don't believe anyone will question whether you erring on the side of life is right." She started to pop her neck, but instead, she glanced up at him and rolled her shoulders. "Would you rather Slocum made those decisions?"

He exhaled heavily with a grimace. "No."

After silence all the way down to the third floor, Trapper held the door open when he stepped out. "Lunch?"

"I don't know yet. I might have to eat lunch at my desk."

"That's fine as long as you eat lunch," he said with an arched eyebrow.

Blushing, she smiled and said, "I'll eat something. I promise."

"Call me. If you can't come up, I'll bring you a sandwich." He winked before he allowed the door to close.


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

Trapper walked through the corridors of the hospital making his final rounds of the day. There had been no unexpected events and no emergencies the entire day, other than the meeting that morning. Everyone seemed relaxed and in a decent mood. He had delivered the promised sandwich along with a pint of milk to Leah, who was busy reading status reports and catching up on equipment orders, program implementations and the physical work of hardware installation…too busy to spend a few minutes to stop and eat her sandwich. She'd hardly noticed him, except to look up and say 'thank you.'

It was coming up on five in the afternoon, when Trapper decided to go back down to the basement and pull her away because based on instructions from her medical team, her day was over. When he stepped off the elevator, he could hear a very loud discussion coming from her cubical. She waved him to a chair when he stuck his head in the door as she held the receiver of her phone to her ear. "I don't care what you do and don't have available. Our contract called for N1C wiring harnesses and one-inch, twenty-five pair cables. I've only received half of those, and now you're telling me you can't get them anymore. That doesn't change what you agreed to in the contract. Now, I expect to have replacements that are compatible with what we've already installed on time. I don't care if you have to personally drive a truck to Poughkeepsie to get them."

"What happens if we can't get them?"

"Then you'll be in breach of contract, and you'll be charged a penalty until we receive them. I can't back up this implementation to install all new equipment. We've already installed seventy-five percent of it."

"I'll have to get our legal department involved then."

"You go right ahead. Based on our contract, you don't have a leg to stand on. My legal department will chew them up and spit them out." Hanging up the phone, she muttered to herself for a minute as she studied the drawings on her desk. When she had calmed herself, she clasped her hands and propped her chin on top of them, looking across her desk at Trapper. "I wanted to be a programmer when I grew up."

"I can empathize," said Trapper. "I wanted to be surgeon, but somehow, I became an administrator who dabbles in surgery."

"You don't dabble. You've managed to find a balance."

Looking beyond her worktable at the desk behind her, he smiled when he saw the empty plate that her lunch had once occupied.

She followed his gaze and smiled. "I keep my promises."

"How long did it take you?"

"Not long enough. I think I might have swallowed it whole."

Standing, Trapper held out his hand to her. "Come on. It's quitting time."

"Trapper, I can't. I've got to approve these designs and get them assigned tomorrow."

He glowered at first. Then he gathered all the paperwork spread over her desk, threw it in her briefcase and stood there, holding the briefcase hostage. "This is going with me."

She walked around her desk and took the briefcase out of his hand. "Thank you, Dr. McIntyre, for packing my work for me. I had forgotten that I have an appointment."

"Appointment?"

"Yes. I have several appointments this evening to look at apartments."

Cocking his head, he said, "I thought you were going to stay at my house."

"I said I would stay at your house before I would stay in a hotel," she said as they walked to the elevator. "I did not say I wasn't going to look for another place."

They said goodbye at the elevator and didn't talk to each other until the next morning.

Gonzo followed Trapper to his office after coming out of surgery to repair damage from a bullet. "Can we find out about the guy who came in with him?" asked Gonzo, pulling his surgical cap off.

Trapper picked up the phone. "Who got him?"

"Ferguson, I think."

"Stanley, Trapper. What happened to the second gunshot victim?" Bowing his head, Trapper breathed deeply. "All right. Our guy's going to make it, though life will never be the same for him. He lost most of his colon. Kids these days think guns make them better somehow. Do we have an ID on either one? All right. Let me know."

"Well?" asked Gonzo.

"He didn't make it to the OR. We still don't know who they are."

Leah stuck her head in the door, wearing a smile. "Good morning." Upon seeing their greens wet with sweat and the frown on both their faces, her smile faded. "Oh. You two look like you've been up awhile. Trapper, I just wanted to tell you I found a place, so I won't need your spare bedroom. See you later."

"Wa-wa-wa-wait just a minute," he said as she disappeared on the other side of the door. "Come back here!" She leaned back in the cracked door. "Come 'ere. I want to hear about this place you've found." Pushing the door open, she closed it behind her and sat in the chair in front of Trapper's desk. "Well?" asked Trapper with raised brows.

"The real estate agent said she had a friend who lived near the south end of Baker Beach. Her daughter had just recently gotten married and moved out of a pool house they had built down the cliff from the main house so the daughter would have some privacy. You can only see the roof of the pool house from the main house, and it seems people have been coming up from the beach and using the house…illegally, of course. The owner was just interested in someone living there to prevent any further damage. She interviewed me last night, and offered me the house for low rent for where it is and utilities. I couldn't turn it down. It's perfect."

"Was this the first place you looked?" asked Trapper with a concerned look.

"Yes," answered Leah, nodding.

"Are you sure it's legitimate? It sounds too good to be true?"

She puckered her lips and narrowed her eyes. "This is the same agent who found the roof apartment I'm leaving. The paperwork was standard, and it's all signed. I have no reason not to trust her."

"What about the people you're renting from? Do you know anything about them?"

Breathing deeply, she glanced over at Gonzo, and then looked back at Trapper. "They're empty nesters in their late fifties, and they will be retiring to this home. He's a lawyer, and she was a stay-at-home mom who does a lot of charity work. She asked for references, and my agent gave her the list we used from my current apartment. She also wanted to know if I dated or if I was in a steady relationship. She didn't want men coming and going at all hours."

"What did you tell her?" asked Trapper with a sideways glance. Gonzo sat forward on the sofa, resting his arms on his thighs, paying close attention. Trapper looked up at a quick knock on the door that brought Ernie in. Holding up a finger to Ernie, he looked expectantly at Leah. Leah turned around to see Ernie, glanced back over at Gonzo, and then looked hesitantly at Trapper, who gave her an amused grin. "We just spent a long weekend together at your lake house. They know."

"About you and Trapper?" asked Ernie, sitting next to Gonzo on the sofa. "Everyone here has known since your catered dinner, and if not by then, certainly after Trapper left here running after you. Everyone outside the hospital has known since your evening at the symphony."

Leah blushed, and unable to look Trapper in the eye, she mumbled, "Excuse me," as she stood and headed for the door.

"Leah!" yelled Trapper, following her out the door.

Ernie was close behind him. "Trapper, two police officers are at the nurse's station. They want to speak to you about the gunshot victims."

When Trapper got to the nurse's station, he stopped at the sight of the policemen and watched as Leah turned forward in the elevator. Catching the disconcerted look she gave him just before the door closed, he took a deep breath and turned to the officers.

Leah had punched the button for the executive suites. She knocked on Slocum's door, and waited to be invited in. "Ms. Haverty, I'm glad you're here. Please sit down," said Arnold, motioning to a chair in front of his desk. "I want to apologize for putting you on the spot yesterday, but the committee wanted to hear it firsthand."

"No apologies are necessary, Mr. Slocum. I'm happy to provide them with whatever information they need. The reason I stopped by was to ask you to approve some training time for the personnel who will have exception authority. They need to understand the regulatory ramifications of their decisions."

"Why, of course. I agree that kind of training is necessary. I'm sure Dr. McIntyre and Dr. Riverside understand the idea, but I'm not sure they know the letter of the law. And I'm sure whoever they choose as their backup isn't even familiar with the basic idea. I'll talk to them and make sure you have their full cooperation."

"Thank you, Mr. Slocum. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"Before you go, Ms. Haverty, I wanted to speak with you about office space."

"Office space?"

"Yes. In light of your knowledge of regulatory matters, I think it would benefit the hospital to have you more accessible for questions. I'd like to offer you an office here on the executive floor."

"Mr. Slocum, there's no need to spend any money on floor space for my team. During implementation, we need to be near the mainframe."

"Well, I'm not really spending any more money than I'll already have to. The board has agreed to add the new position of Chief Information Officer to lead the technical team after turnover, and I thought the staff might be better prepared to deal with the new role if they were already dealing with something similar." He passed a set of keys over the desk to her. "The office is yours until the position is filled. You can use it as you wish. I assume you'll be installing equipment there fairly soon?"

Looking at the keys in her hand, she said, "Uh…" before she looked back up. "Yes, of course. We'll install the new equipment within the week, and I'll make sure you get the updated invoice," she said, smiling. "But Mr. Slocum, don't be surprised if you don't see much of me up here. I work very closely with my staff, so I'll still be spending quite a bit of time with them in the basement."

"Of course. Good day, Ms. Haverty."

Leah boarded the elevator, and when the door had closed, she slumped against the wall with her cheeks blown out. When it stopped on the third floor, she straightened back up only to fall back again with her eyes cut up toward the ceiling as Trapper boarded. She gave him a tired look.

"Meeting with Arnold?" he asked rather flippantly.

Dangling the keys in front of him, she said a bit acerbically, "I now have an office on the executive floor."

"Oh, really?" he said, chuckling, "Better you than me."

She sighed, and looked down at the briefcase he was carrying. "I guess I left that in your office."

"Yes, in your haste to leave. What was that all about?"

She frowned. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but everyone knowing that I'm seeing you weakens my position as the "Ice Queen."

"You still _want_ to be the "Ice Queen?" he said, slightly grimacing. "Haven't we all, and by we all, I mean all of your doctors, told you that disposition needed to go."

"That's how I got things done. Everyone did what I asked when I asked just to get rid of me."

Shaking his head, Trapper said, "You might try using some of that charm you tend to hide." They stepped out of the elevator together and walked into her cube. "Now, tell me what my restrictions are at your new place."

"Mrs. Murphy was delighted when I told her who you are, where you work and in what capacity. The only restriction you have is that you can't park on the driveway. You have to park on the street and walk in through my private gate, and you can't surprise me because you'll have to call me to let you in. There's a call button at the gate."

"I still think this is too good to be true. Especially since your last apartment should have been difficult to get."

"What can I say? The agent working for me is good at finding steals. "Albert Shaeffer, my attorney, found her for me."


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter Fifty-Three **

Leah busied herself stacking boxes near the door of her apartment. She had packed almost everything, and was taking her time with her breakables and keepsakes. She organized her jewelry in several leather jewelry carriers and placed those in bag she would carry with her. The only thing left that she needed was the promised help. When he was an hour late, she called the hospital.

"Gloria, hi. This is Leah Haverty. Have you seen Dr. McIntyre?"

"Well, yes. He's in surgery. He was on his way out when Dr. Riverside stopped him to help with some car accident victims."

"I don't suppose you know how long he'll be, do you?"

"I know he's finished one surgery, and he's working on his second. If you'll hold, I'll call and see if there's any news."

"Thanks, Gloria."

Just as Trapper came out of the operating room, the nurse at the surgical desk, called after him. "Dr. McIntyre, you have a phone call."

"McIntyre."

"Trapper, I have Leah on hold. What should I tell her?"

"Damn," he said under his breath. "Gloria, can you transfer her here?" He waited and listened to the clicks of the transfer. "Leah? I'm sorry. It was an emergency."

"Don't apologize. I understand. But are you finished?

"I'm on my way to the shower."

"Can you get here quickly? Marilyn will be here any minute, and I'm supposed to be out of here."

"I need to clean up first."

"No you don't. Come in your greens and bring your clothes with you. You can take a shower at my place."

"All right then. I'm on my way."

Trapper ran from the stairs to the Jeep, taking a box out of Leah's hands. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I _was_ unloading a box to take into the pool house. What do you think _you're_ doing?"

"I thought we agreed you'd work up to things," he said, frowning.

"Exercise, yes. Moving, no." She crossed her arms. "You have to stop treating me like an invalid."

"I'm not..." he started defensively, but cut his remark off at the sight of her glare. Though he did worry about her physical condition, he was the first person who told her she should be able to live a normal life. He passed the box back to her with a concessible smile, and then lifted the last two out of the back of the Jeep. Leading the way down the stairs to the pool house, Trapper stopped at the open sliding door for Leah to pass him. As he set the boxes down, he took his first good look around the large single room. "It's smaller than your last apartment, but," he chuckled, "it's very well-designed."

The bed sat on a dais two steps up from the main floor on the left side of a semi-circular room. In the middle was the kitchen area with gourmet conveniences and in front and to the left of the kitchen were a leather sofa and two chairs along with modern-styled tables. The only windows in the main room were the sliding doors that followed the curve of the building and went from one side of the room to the other, opening to a narrow deck that was cantilevered over the cliff. The second room in the pool house was what Trapper considered to be a luxury bathroom on the right side of the small building that lead to a large walk-in closet and a laundry room. The separate shower and bath occupied an ocean side glass wall. A small door on the far side opened to the end of the narrow deck where the area was enclosed in privacy fencing higher than the rails for privacy. The only traditional element in the pool house was the light-stained wood plank floor. Everything else in the room was covered or upholstered in white or was stainless steel.

Trapper stood in the middle of the main room, shaking his head. "There has to be a catch. This rivals The Mark." Smiling, Leah took a stack of folded clothes toward the bathroom without comment. He followed, standing against the door frame as she tucked clothes in the drawers of the organizers in the large closet. "What are you not telling me?"

"Trapper, believe it or not, I do function quite well on my own. Any problems that might arise will be taken care of…by me, not you."

Opening his mouth to argue, he stopped at a "hello" coming from the main room. Leah breezed by him. "Mrs. Murphy, how are you?"

"I'm well, my dear. I just wanted to see how you were coming along."

"Well, I'm officially moved in. Mrs. Murphy, this is the gentleman I told you about, Dr. John McIntyre."

"Dr. McIntyre, I understand you're the Chief of Surgery at San Francisco Memorial," Mrs. Murphy said, holding out her hand.

He took it and bowed. "Mrs. Murphy, it's a delight to meet you."

"Do you always go around in your surgery clothes?"

"No. I volunteered to help Leah move out of her former apartment, but I had to go into surgery unexpectedly, so I was late getting there," he replied with a charming smile.

Mrs. Murphy smiled and turned back to Leah. "I wanted you to know that we've replaced the warning signs on the stairs coming up from the beach. We haven't had a problem in the last few days, and since you're going to install a monitored alarm system, new locks and a gate on your stairs, I would think the young people who've been coming up from the beach will get the message." She walked back toward the door with Leah following. "Now, if you have any problems, you make sure you call the main house."

"I will, Mrs. Murphy. Thank you for stopping by." At the junction of the stairs going up to the driveway, Mrs. Murphy turned and waved her fingers, prompting Leah to do the same from the edge of the deck. When she came back into the house, she met Trapper standing with his arms crossed and a displeased look on his face. Leah took a deep breath and walked on by him.

"New locks? New gate? A monitored alarm system? Young people coming up from the beach? You didn't tell me you were moving into a problem house."

"It won't be a problem when it's all done," she said, taking another armload of clothes to the closet.

"And what happens in the meantime?" he shouted to be heard from the main room.

She slowly rolled from the bedroom wall around the door frame and stopped, leaning on it. "Trapper," she started, but folded her lips, looking for the right words. "I'm not looking for your approval or protection. My living situation is my decision."

Trapper's smile was forced, his nostrils flared, and he sucked in a breath as he bowed his head, looking at her from under his brow. "Then I'll leave you with your decision."

She stopped him as he walked briskly to the door. "Trapper, wait. I didn't say that very well."

"You came in loud and clear," he said, continuing to the door.

"Trapper," she called, but he was already out the door. She hesitated only a moment, but when she ran after him, he was already at the street gate. By the time she ran up the stairs and up the sidewalk to the gate, he was in his car. Pushing the gate open, she stood on the sidewalk, yelling after him as he pulled out. Her jaw dropped as she watched his car disappear around a corner, and for a moment, she was frozen in place, wondering how it had gotten so bad so fast. Then she got angry, and spun around, kicking the gate with her bare foot. Yelping, she fell to the ground holding her foot, her toe bloody from the impact with the gate.

Trapper noticed Leah's Jeep wasn't in the parking lot when he arrived at the hospital the following morning, and he was running late, so she should've already been there. He hadn't slept at all, remembering Leah standing on the sidewalk yelling after him. But taking that pool house knowing there were problems…. Surely she knew by now how he felt. Apparently, she wasn't in this relationship as deeply as he was.

Leah had taken a cab to work because her foot was so swollen she couldn't get her shoe on, much less push the clutch of her Jeep. In fact, she could barely walk, so she hobbled slowly on her socked foot to the main floor elevator and went straight to the basement. As quietly as possible, she limped to her desk, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally made it into her chair. As she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, she picked up the receiver of her phone and dialed. "Gloria, it's Leah. I need a favor. Would you ask Dr. Gates to come down to my office in the basement? It's important. And don't…don't let Trapper find out, please. Oh. Oh hi, Dr. Gates."

"What is it I'm not supposed to tell Trapper? And why did you call me Dr. Gates?"

"It just sounds…odd…calling my doctor Gonzo."

"So this is an official request. What did you do?"

"Well…I hurt my foot yesterday, and it's swollen. I can barely walk on it."

"I'll be right down."

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she heard a click and looked at the receiver before she put it back in the cradle. It wasn't five minutes before Gonzo showed up in her cube with a wheelchair.

"I thought we could be a little more discreet than that," she said, eyeing the chair.

"How did you hurt your foot?"

"I'd rather not say," she said, looking away.

Kneeling down behind the desk, Gonzo put her foot on his bent leg and gently pulled off her sock. When he saw the dark purple coloring over half her foot, he whistled. "What'd you kick?"

"How do you know I kicked something?"

"The end of your big toe and your toenail have exploded. That kind of injury only comes from an impact…like you'd get if you kicked something…maybe barefoot?" he said, glancing up at her. "And based on your request not to tell Trapper, it must have involved him." She let out a plaintive sigh. "That bad, huh?"

"It was awful."

Gonzo gingerly slipped her sock back on and pulled her up out of the chair. "Can you put any weight on it?"

"A little, but it hurts."

Bending, he scooped her up and placed her in the wheelchair. "We're going to get your toe cleaned up, and then, we're going to x-ray. Based on the bruising, you just might have broken a bone."


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

As Gonzo pushed Leah's wheelchair off the elevator on the third floor, Ernie and Gloria watched from the nurse's station. "Gloria, is there an empty exam room?" asked Gonzo.

"Yes. Exam three."

"What are you doing? He's standing right there," whispered Leah frantically.

Trapper was busy looking over a chart and signing some paperwork, but stopped to see who was going to the exam room. When he saw Leah, he turned back around and continued writing out orders on the chart.

"Trapper, what happened to Leah?" asked Ernie.

"I have no idea," he answered without looking up.

Ernie and Gloria looked perplexed at each other. "Aren't you going to find out?"

Trapper didn't acknowledge the question, but rather finished his entries in the chart, handing it to Gloria. Moving his glasses to the top of his head, he turned and watched Gonzo wheel Leah into the exam room and started back toward his office. He got halfway down the hall before he stopped, shook his head, and turned back the way he had come. He avoided looking at Ernie and Gloria as he passed them on the way to the exam room and pushed the door open slightly, peering in. Grimacing at the sight of her foot, he slowly entered the room. "What's this?"

"It's probably a broken foot," answered Gonzo.

Leaning against the wall by the door, Trapper asked, "When did this happen?"

Leah looked at Gonzo with a mixture of annoyance and resignation, and when Gonzo nodded toward Trapper, she bowed her head and quietly said, "After I watched your taillights go around the corner yesterday I kicked the gate."

"What did the gate ever do to you?"

Glancing over, she could see there was no laughter in his eyes. "I was trying to apologize, but you didn't want to hear it." Raising his chin, Trapper crooked his jaw.

"You know what. I'll just leave. You two can discuss it while you fix her foot," said Gonzo, pointing at Trapper before he peeled his gloves off, tossing them in the trash on his way out of the room.

Moving to the end of the exam table, Trapper pulled on a pair of gloves and studied her foot.

"Actually, it's more of an explanation than an apology."

He looked up at her for an instant, and then began cleaning her toe. "I'm listening. You might want to lie back while I do this."

She was relieved that she didn't have to look at him as she tried to explain. She kept her eyes on the ceiling instead. "I apologize for saying it so badly and upsetting you, but I do not apologize for what I was trying to say. Ow," she said, jerking her foot back. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her foot back down. "OW!" she yelled, sitting back up. "Are you punishing me?"

He rolled his eyes and kept working. "This is going to hurt."

"Stop!" she shouted, pulling her foot away from him.

"Lie down and be still. I have to remove the pieces of the nail."

Clasping her hands on top of her, she cringed as she continued her explanation. "Trapper, other than the last few years, I've never been on my own. And I handled the last four years so well, I caused a hole to form in my heart," she snorted. "But before that, there was always someone else taking care of me. While I was married that was okay because I had the children to take care of, so I didn't mind John doing everything else." She flinched and waited for that particular pain to pass before going on. "I don't know why I couldn't say this right before, but it's really very simple." Sitting up, she finally looked at him. "I need to learn to depend on me before I let myself become dependent on someone else again." Trapper stood still for a moment, hovering his tweezers over her toe. "That doesn't mean I don't appreciate what you do for me, but you've got to let me make all those stupid mistakes that are supposed to make me wise in my old age."

"Like kicking a gate?" Trapper straightened up and leaned with both hands on the end of the exam table. "I can't stand by and watch you make mistakes that could get you seriously injured or killed."

"Trapper…" she said, melting with sudden understanding. "I wouldn't put myself in that position. Regardless of how Mrs. Murphy seemed, Mr. Murphy said that the damage had been done to the locks on the sliders. People from the beach were spending time on the deck and furniture admiring the view and using the kitchen. But there was never anything violent."

"Then why all the security?"

"Mrs. Murphy was confused. Mr. Murphy was going to have a monitored alarm system installed anyway, whether I rented it or not, and he had to fix the locks, so he's putting better ones in. My part was the gate. I didn't want people wandering up on the deck since there are no curtains on the sliders. I asked that the monitoring for the alarm system be part of my rent because I do have valuables in the house. I don't pay any utilities directly either. It's all included in the rent. When I asked for the monitoring to be added to the rent, Mr. Murphy said he was just happy someone was living in there, and that's why he gave me the house for what I was paying at the other place."

"And this?" he said, indicating her foot.

"I was angry."

"Pardon me," he said with a quick glare before he leaned back over her foot.

"Not at you. At me," she said softly, laying back down on the bed and closing her eyes.

Trapper considered her foot, and as he moved to the head of the exam table, he muttered, "Maybe I should concentrate on saving you from yourself." She flinched at the unexpected kiss he placed on her lips. When she opened her eyes, he was still there, and after another kiss, he chuckled as she twisted her mouth and looked away. "You _should_ be ashamed," he admonished before he went back to her foot. "I have to wonder, though, why Murphy was so willing to give _you_ that house when he could have gotten a lot more for it."

"Trapper," said Gonzo as he walked into Trapper's office and plopped down on the sofa. "You might want to put a guard on Leah's door. She's determined to go home."

Closing the chart he was reviewing, Trapper asked, "What room is she in?"

"402."

"I'll talk to her. Did you start the antibiotic?"

"No. She refused. She wanted me to give her pills so…"

"So she could go home," interrupted Trapper, standing and heading toward the door. As he walked down the hall toward her room, he prepared himself for the discussion he knew would take place. By the time he opened her door, his confidence was showing. Unfortunately, she wasn't there. He went to the nurse's station. "The patient in 402…where is she?"

"She's not there?"

"No, she's not there," he snapped. Shaking his head, he went to the elevator and pushed the button for the basement. He walked into her office and stood in front her desk with his hands on his hips, looking at her back.

"Sit down, Trapper," she said without looking around. He said nothing. "I know it's you. I hear your breathing." She finished typing on her keyboard and spun around in her chair. "I don't know anyone who breathes as deeply and evenly as you, especially when you're angry."

"Not that I'm angry, but why do you suppose I'd be angry?" he asked with an insolent smile.

"Could be any number of reasons," she said as she studied her diagrams, and then wrote something on a chart. "It could be because I left my room. It could be because I refused the IV. It could be because I'm sitting at my desk, and my foot isn't propped up." She looked up and smiled. "It could be all three."

Cocking his head, he looked hard at her, and then looked around for a wheelchair. "How did you get down here?"

"I walked. This is a walking cast, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," he said, moving around her desk. "But you're not supposed to walk on it until it's completely dry. If you've compromised it by walking on it, you'll have to get another one." Reaching across her, he picked up her phone and dialed. "This is Dr. McIntyre. I need a wheelchair in the basement. Yes, the basement. Just take the elevator all the way down, and when you get off in the basement keep going straight until you can't go any further."

"I'm not leaving without my paperwork." Logging off her computer, she quickly gathered all the papers into a neat pile, the pens, pencils and rulers in a bundle which she bound with a rubber band, and a book that had been lying open on the side of her desk. She picked it all up and held it against her.

On the way back up to her room, she let out a heavy sigh. "Why do I have to stay here tonight? Why can't I go home?"

"It could be because your cast isn't set. It could be because you can't go down the stairs to your studio. It could be because you need an IV antibiotic." He leaned over the back of the wheelchair and spoke in her ear. "It could be all three." Stopping at the nurse's station before he rolled Leah into her room, he said to the nurse, "Dr. Gates ordered an IV antibiotic for Ms. Haverty. Let's get it started."

He pushed her into her room and locked the wheels of the chair, then took her work from her and set it on the over bed table. "Where's your gown?"

"I hate hospital gowns," she answered, pulling the gown out from under the sheets on the bed. "Why do they have to open in the back? You doctors do more in the front."

"Because in an emergency, they're easier to remove," said Trapper calmly. "Now let's get you in the bed," he said, helping her up out of the chair.

Sitting on the side of the bed, she began to undress. When it came to her slacks, Trapper helped her work her pants leg over her cast while the nurse readied the IV. When Trapper had her under the sheet, he nodded at the nurse, but Leah refused to give her an arm. "I'm not sick, and my toe is not infected."

Trapper smiled, sat down and took her hand. "Do you remember our talk about infections after your heart surgery?" She gave him a cool glance. "Even a slight infection could turn into something much worse just because you're a transplant patient. An infection that starts in your toe could kill you. There may not be an infection, but we won't know until we get your blood work back. This…" he said, nodding toward the IV bag, "…is preemptive."

"Didn't I read somewhere that using an antibiotic too often will cause it to be ineffective?"

"Ah. So you not only listened, you gave it some thought." Lifting her hand, he kissed it. "You're a long way from that, kiddo."

"Page for Dr. McIntyre. Page for Dr. McIntyre."

Standing, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. "I'll be right back." He turned back as he was leaving the room. "And I expect you to be hooked up to that IV." Just as the nurse finished with the IV, he stuck his head back in the door. "I've have to go. Hold dinner for me."

Stepping out of the elevator outside emergency, he headed for the nurse's station, but was intercepted by Dr. Riverside who pulled him along down a side hallway. "Stanley, you're white as a ghost."

"Wait until you see this, John. It's more…frightening…than anything I've ever seen. I don't even know how to begin."

Creasing his eyebrows, Trapper gave Stanley a baffled look. With everything Stanley had seen come into the emergency room in his career, Trapper couldn't imagine anything that might throw him. Stanley practically shoved him into an exam room. The sight laid out in front of him made him stagger, and for a moment he stood motionless at the horror before him.

"That's not the only one."

With shock written on his face, Trapper jerked his head toward Stanley. "Another one like this?"

Nodding, Stanley lead Trapper to the next exam room, and entering, Trapper let himself fall back against the wall. "Are these…. What caused this?" Pushing himself away from the wall, he moved forward and stood over a person so wadded up and mangled, he didn't know if it was a man or woman.

"They were found in a garbage truck…the kind with the compactors. The police don't think they were conscious when they went in. No one heard any screams," answered Stanley.

"Get Gonzo. He should be at the Titanic. I'll be in the other room," said Trapper hoarsely. "And tell him before you show him."


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

Trapper understood what Stanley meant when he said he didn't know where to start. This person's limbs were folded in more directions than he could count, some of the bones penetrating the torso, and the head bent to the side with a arm wrapped all the way around it. "Vitals."

"Pulse one-forty-four. We can't get a blood pressure."

"Do we know if he's conscious? I can't get to his eyes."

"He hasn't made a sound or moved since he's been on the table."

"I would think not. Is his pulse holding?"

"Yes, doctor."

"All right. Let's try to get these clothes off first so we can see where all these broken bones went. Then we'll get some x-rays. If his pulse changes, I want to know stat. I'll be in the other room." Gonzo came in and stood off to the side open-mouthed as Trapper checked the other patient. Taking a deep breath, Trapper said, "Take in all in Gonzo, and then get over it. We have to figure out a game plan for these two."

"There's two like this?" Gonzo asked, still stunned from the view. He shook it off and stepped up to the table. This one's eyes were unobstructed, so Gonzo bent down and spoke. "I'm Dr. Gates. You're at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Do you understand me?" The head moved only slightly and the eyes blinked. "Don't try to move. Blink twice for 'yes' and once for 'no.' Do you understand?" The patient blinked twice. "We're going to examine you to determine a course of action. I'm going to give you something for pain." A tear rolled out of his eye as he blinked twice. "Are you allergic to anything?" One blink. Speaking over his shoulder, Gonzo said, "Get me some morphine and a syringe." When the nurse handed him the bottle and syringe, Gonzo pushed the needle into the top of the bottle. "I'll start him with four milligrams."

"Her," said Trapper.

"Did you find any ID in her clothes?"

"No. Nothing. Find out what you can from the other one, and if he's conscious, start him on morphine. I'll meet you outside at the counter," said Trapper, leaving the room.

When Gonzo found him, Trapper was writing notes in a chart. "Stanley," he called. "Find out what you can from the policemen who came in with them…a name…anything. We'll have to do quite a bit of surgery. Gonzo, I'm putting two teams together. I'll want you to lead one of them. Gloria, would you contact these doctors?" he asked, passing her a piece of paper with a list of names. "Tell them we'll need their services immediately and to meet us down here. We're not moving them until we have a consult. I don't want to take them to x-ray but once." Turning to Gonzo, he asked, "Do you know anything more about the other one?"

"Well, he's male, but there was nothing to identify him in his clothes."

"I think we can assume they know each other. Come on. Let's get started with a plan."

"Well, doctors, you see what we've got. Edwin, Marty, you're the bone doctors. It would seem to me that we've got to unfold them first before we do anything else."

"I'd agree with that, Trapper," replied Dr. Edwin Fry, one of the orthopedic surgeons. "The bones are already broken, so straightening them out isn't going to make them any worse. They need to be sedated before we do that."

"Maybe we should go ahead and move them to an OR," said Dr. Marty Applebaum, the other orthopedic surgeon. "If we work on them in the same room, we could share the issues between the two of them."

"All right," said Trapper. "Get the sedation started. I'll go get the OR reserved. Do we need any special equipment?"

Rubbing his forehead, Dr. Applebaum said, "We're going to need an awful lot of hardware. I'll go with you and make the arrangements."

Arnold Slocum paced outside the surgery suite waiting for Trapper to come out. When the doors opened, he hurried forward. "Trapper, what's going on? I hear you have eight surgeons working on two patients in there." Seeing the look on Trapper's face; brow furrowed, lips drawn, troubled eyes, he waited patiently for an explanation.

It took a moment for Trapper to put words together. "Arnold…I've never seen anything like it; not even in Korea. We have two people, a man and woman, who were found in the back of garbage truck compacted with trash. It looks like someone wadded them up in their hands like a piece of paper and tossed them aside."

"Oh my. And they're alive?"

Trapper gave him a cross look.

"Yes, of course they are. Are we going to be able to do anything for them?"

"We're going to try. The woman has been conscious. We're working on x-rays now." Trapper turned to leave, but stopped. "Arnold, you should be prepared for reporters. Some followed the ambulance and police to the hospital. They got some pictures as the victims were rolled into emergency, so I'm sure they'll be asking questions.

"Victims?"

"They didn't throw themselves into a garbage truck," said Trapper acerbically with his hands out to his sides.

"No, I suppose not. I'll take care of the reporters. Just have someone keep me informed."

Ernie stuck her head in the door of Leah's room after Leah pressed the call button. "Ernie, I didn't know you were on this floor tonight. Come in," invited Leah.

"I'm not really. I just found out about your foot. I hear you kicked a gate." Leah looked away and blew her cheeks out. "So it's true. How bad?"

"Not that I've seen it that well, but Gonzo and Trapper both say I exploded the end of my big toe and toenail and broke my first metatarsal."

Chuckling, Ernie said, "That'll teach you."

Leah pointed to her over bed table where a tray of food had been delivered moments before Ernie came into the room. "Trapper was supposed to have dinner with me. Have you seen him?"

"He'll be in surgery for awhile. You should go ahead and eat without him."

"Bad, huh?"

"Unspeakable is more like it. Turn on your television. You'll probably see it on the news." Ernie squeezed Leah's hand. "I have to go back down. We're waiting for the orthopedists to finish before we go in."

After Ernie closed the door, Leah pushed the button for the TV, and then flipped the channel to a news station. "Two bodies were removed from this garbage truck this morning when an employee of the refuse company began cleaning it out. Reports from the police say the people were badly mangled, but still alive. These pictures taken outside the emergency room at San Francisco Memorial Hospital show just how badly mangled one person was."

"Oh my God," said Leah out loud.

"Arnold Slocum, the hospital administrator had this to say."

"The two people who arrived at the hospital earlier today are being treated by eight members of our surgical staff led by our Chief of Surgery, Dr. John McIntyre. At this point, they're still in surgery. I don't have any news as yet."

"Mr. Slocum, have the victims been identified?"

"No, they haven't. One is male. The other is female. That's all we know at this time." Arnold turned and went back inside the hospital.

"At the time of this interview, the police either didn't know or weren't providing the identity of the victims, but were continuing to investigate. We hope to have more details on our ten o'clock newscast."

Leah pushed the button that turned the television off, wondering how Trapper managed to stay sane after seeing all that he'd seen in his career.

"All right. Now pull the leg back down," said Dr. Applebaum. "No wait. Trapper, you need to evaluate this. We have bone penetration just below the xiphoid process above the liver."

"Get those pictures up on the light box," said Trapper as he examined the other end of the bone. How much bone are we talking about Marty?" Stepping back to the light box, both men looked at the x-rays.

"It's definitely long enough to lacerate the liver."

"We don't have any more penetration in the immediate area. Once you pull the leg down, we'll get some suction on it, and I'll make the incision. If it's lacerated, you'll have to wait until I can repair it." Trapper turned back toward the table. "How's she doing?"

"She's stable, Trapper. But I'm on a fifth unit of blood."

"She probably won't have any of her own blood left by the time we're done. Ernie?"

"I'm right here," she said ready to move her tray in place.

Standing mid-table, Trapper did a visual check of his equipment and implements. "All right, Marty. Pull."

Everyone heard a wet sucking sound when the bone was pulled out of the tissue followed by multiple cracks and crunches as Dr. Applebaum moved the leg to its normal position. Trapper didn't notice. By the time the leg was down, he was already making the incision.

"Trap, when you're finished with that, I need you to take a look over here," said Gonzo. "We've got a perforated heart. The only thing stopping this guy from bleeding out is a bone."

Eighteen hours later the surgical team stopped working.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

Barely putting one foot in front of the other, Trapper pushed Leah's door open and stepped into her room carrying clean greens. "My dear, I just wanted to let you know that I didn't forget you last night," he explained as he walked to her bed and sat down on the side, hanging his head from exhaustion. "Well, I did, but only because I was in surgery all night."

"So I hear," she said. "Here; have some breakfast." She moved the over bed table around and in front of him.

"Doctors are not supposed to eat their patient's food."

"Eat before you fall over," she said, brushing her hand across his back.

Stanley pushed the door open. "Ernie told me I'd find you here, Trapper. I wanted to tell you not to go to your office. Reporters."

"Why my office?"

"Because Arnold told them you were leading the team working on the garbage truck people. I would just stay right here if I were you. The hospital is crawling with reporters."

"I can't stay in a patient's room. The hospital could be sued," he said with a weak chuckle.

Sitting up and rubbing his back, Leah said, "I promise I won't. You can take a shower, change into your clean scrubs and take a nap right here, and no one will ever find you."

"I need to talk to Arnold."

"I'll tell him where you are," said Stanley, turning to leave. "I'll bring another breakfast tray in as well."

"Woman, you have no idea how good that feels."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Now, eat something, please."

Sitting up, he pulled the over bed table in front of him.

"I saw the pictures on the news. Were you able to save them?"

After chewing a bite of eggs, he took a slow deep breath. "We lost the man. A bone had perforated his heart, and once we took it out, we couldn't stop the bleeding. We decided to give the woman a break before Applebaum, the orthopedist, started trying to put her arms and legs back together. He's already done her jaw. She's got a slow bleeder in her abdomen we'll have to repair first, but I think we got everything else." Setting the fork down, he pushed the table away. "I don't see how they survived," he said, looking at the far wall. "It was…" Running his hand over his head, he stood and picked up his greens, pointing to the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Tears had welled in his eyes. Leah had never seen him this close to breaking down. She had often wondered how he held himself together so well after seeing things no man should ever have to see, much less fix. Now, she supposed he had moments like this periodically. This just happened to be the one that was too much since she'd met him. "Take your time, Trapper. My doctor is too tired to release me anyway."

Closing his eyes, he gave her a slight smile and went into the bathroom. After twenty minutes, Leah was preparing to go in to check on him. The door opened at the same time she stood at the side of the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked sternly.

"Ah. He can still bite," she said, sitting back down on the bed. "I was afraid you had fallen asleep in the shower."

He shook his head. "Just letting the heat soak into my muscles. Look, I don't want to kick you out of your bed. I'm going to sleep on the sofa in my office."

"Oh no you're not. Dr. Riverside said there are reporters waiting for you in your office. You won't get _any_ sleep. And who said I was abandoning my bed. I didn't sleep very well last night either after watching the news. Put your dirty greens down and come over here."

A crooked smile appeared on Trapper's face as he dropped his old greens in a chair, and then sat on the side of the bed. Leah squeezed his shoulders and gently pulled him down on the pillow. "Just watch the foot," she said as he swung his legs up on the bed. She lay back as well with her arm under her head as he settled on his back. Moving her hand to rest on his chest, he covered it with his hand and was soon sound asleep.

Ernie and Gonzo slowly opened the door, and stood observing Trapper sleeping as Leah quietly read through the paperwork on her over bed table, occasionally writing a note. She looked up and smiled, moving a finger perpendicular to her lips.

"It's time to wake him up," said Gonzo quietly. "We have to go back into surgery. And before we go, I want to take a look at your cast before I release you."

"Fine, but let him sleep until you're finished."

"He's awake," said Trapper, opening his eyes.

Leaning over him, Leah said, "You were really tired. You didn't move at all." She gave him a quick kiss, and looked back into smiling eyes before she moved away, allowing him to sit up.

"What time is it?" he asked, yawning and moving from the bed to the chair to put his shoes on.

Ernie looked at her watch before she picked up his dirty greens. "It's one o'clock. Jane Doe has been stable all this time, so Dr. Applebaum and Dr. Fry wanted you to get that bleeder corrected before they start working on her again."

Nodding, Trapper went to the other side of the bed and watched Gonzo as he checked Leah's cast. "It's dry, and your blood work looks good, so I'm sending you home."

"I don't want to go home. I want to go to my office." Gonzo's dissatisfied glare prompted her to comment further. "I'm just catching up on paperwork. If I didn't need to reference the files in the computer, I would work at home. I don't see there's much difference."

"Do you have a way to prop your leg up in your office?"

"Yes, I can use a chair."

"All right, but remember, you are not to work longer than eight hours a day," said Gonzo with raised brows.

When she sighed, Trapper stepped forward, bending to give her a kiss, but before he did he said, "You keep your promises, remember." After giving her a loud smack on the lips, he took her hand. "Call down to the OR and find out where we are before you leave this afternoon. If we're done, I'll drive you home." She smiled and nodded, and the three headed for the door.

Once in the hallway, reporters seemed to come at them from all directions. "Dr. McIntyre, can you tell us the status of the two garbage truck people?"

"Garbage truck people," he whispered to Ernie with a frown. He stopped and turned, but was intercepted by Dr. Riverside.

"John, Arnold wants to speak to you before you go back in. He's getting ready to make a statement to the press."

"Where?"

"He'll meet you outside the surgery suite. Ladies and gentlemen," said Stanley as he stepped between Trapper and the reporters. "Mr. Slocum, the hospital administrator, will be making a statement momentarily."

Giving Stanley a pat on the shoulder, Trapper, Gonzo and Ernie made haste down the hall to the elevator. Arnold was waiting at the doors to the surgery suite as promised. "Trapper, do you have any more information?"

"Well, as you know, the man died from complications of his injuries. The woman is stable. We have a small bleeder in her abdomen to repair, but there are no other signs of internal bleeding. We seem to have fixed the rest. As soon as we're done, the orthopedists will get to work on her legs and arms."

"Do you know if there's a chance she'll use them again?"

"I wouldn't repeat this to the press, Arnold, but my gut tells me no. Every bone and joint in her arms and from her hips down are broken, some in multiple places. She might be able to walk with help, but I just don't see how she'll ever get normal mobility back. Have the police figured out who they are?"

"Both of them are scientists from Xanda National Laboratory."

"Xanda," said Trapper disgustedly. This isn't another one of their scandals, is it?"

"I don't know anything other than their names and where they worked. The police said the feds are involved now and aren't talking."

"Great. We fix her, and they try to kill her again."

"Why would you think this was a murder attempt?"

"They didn't crawl in that truck by themselves, Arnold. It might be plausible for a bum to be sleeping in a dumpster and get picked up by a garbage truck, but two scientists…highly unlikely." Trapper breathed deeply. "I have to scrub. I'll let you know if anything changes," he said, pushing through the double doors. He went directly to the sink next to Gonzo. "You and I need to talk."

"What about?"

"Our patient in there," he said, nodding toward the OR. He looked around before he continued and spoke quietly. "It seems our Jane Doe was a scientist at Xanda Labs. The man was, too. The chances of those two purposely or accidently getting into that garbage truck on their own is slim."

"More like non-existent."

"Keep your eyes open. I have a feeling things are about to get ugly." Both men pushed through the operating room doors with their hands up and were met by Ernie and another nurse with waiting gloves.

"Okay. Let's get this done," said Trapper. "How's her numbers?"

The anesthesiologist looked over his screens and bags. "Not bad for what she's been through. She's stable."

Looking over at the orthopedists who were testing electric surgical drills and saws, Trapper asked, "Marty, is your team ready?"

"We're all here," replied Dr. Applebaum. "When you're done, we'll watch her for a few minutes while we prepare the hardware trays. If she's still stable, we'll start work. Edwin will work on her right side. I'll work on her left. That way, she won't have to be under as long."

"Good idea. I want two people with her at all times when you move her to ICU, and I want a list of your people, Marty. I don't want any unauthorized personnel around her room, inside or out."

"Is there a problem?"

"The reporters are getting brave." Extending his open hand, he said, "Scalpel."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

"Mr. Slocum, I'm Darren Allen with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." The man flashed his badge. "You have two people in your hospital; a Jason Wright and an Ellen Frank. These two people are of interest to the government. We're here to ensure their safety."

"Please, sit down gentlemen," said Arnold.

Allen whispered to his partner who immediately went to the door and disappeared. "I trust this office is private. And for the record, Mr. Slocum, this conversation doesn't leave this room."

Nodding wearily, Slocum said, "Of course. So this is murder then."

"Attempted murder."

"Unfortunately, Agent Allen, it's murder. Jason Wright died hours ago. Ms. Frank is still in the operating room."

"I see. Mr. Slocum, I'll be putting personnel in your hospital for the next few days to guarantee the safety of Ms. Frank until she's well enough to move. I also want all records concerning her removed from your computer system immediately."

"Well, Agent Allen, I'm not the person you need discuss this with. Our Chief of Surgery will speak to the possibility of moving Ms. Frank, and our System Architect will have to discuss removing her records from our system with you."

"We need to speak to them immediately."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Dr. McIntyre is still in surgery, and as I understand it, Ms. Haverty has a broken foot. She was a patient, but she's been released. I'm not sure she's still here."

"Find out, Mr. Slocum. I want them both up here as soon as possible."

"Mark," yelled Leah over her cube wall. "Would you load a CPU, monitor, keyboard and cables on a cart for me, please?"

"Sure," he yelled back. After a new minutes, he rolled the computer laden cart into Leah's cube. "Where we going?"

She smiled. "To my office."

Looking puzzled, Mark said, "Aren't we in your office?"

"Slocum gave me an office on the executive floor."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he wants a technical presence up there before he hires his new CIO and staff so people will get used to the idea. I don't know that I'll ever use it, but I promised him we would install a machine. You ready?"

Motioning toward the elevator, Mark waited for Leah to lead the way, and then followed behind her, pushing the cart. "Do I get to hear about your foot, Chester?"

"No. And don't call me Chester."

When they arrived in the executive office, Mark placed the computer on the desk, and then got down on his hands and knees looking for the outlets. Once he found them, Leah dropped his end of the cables over the back of the desk and plugged the other ends into the computer.

Both looked up when Arnold's secretary entered the office. "Ms. Haverty, I thought I saw you up here. Mr. Slocum needs to see you in his office. It's urgent."

"Urgent?" She looked down at Mark, still on the floor. "I hope The Committee didn't change their minds. Would you test this machine when you're finished, Mark? I shouldn't be too long."

He nodded, and Leah followed Slocum's secretary to his office, smiling suspiciously at the man standing outside his door. "You look like one of mine," she said, chuckling as she entered the office. She stopped when she saw the second man in Slocum's office dressed in a black suit and white shirt. "Mr. Slocum?" she asked, tensing when she heard the door close behind her.

"Please sit down, Ms. Haverty," said Arnold. "We're waiting for Dr. McIntyre to join us before we start."

"That could take awhile. He's still in surgery, and when he's done with his part, he's observing Dr. Applebaum and Dr. Fry."

"How do you know what he's doing, may I ask?"

Slocum leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Haverty, this is Agent Allen with the FBI."

"FBI?" she said, looking back over her shoulder. She turned back toward Arnold who was making a call to the surgery suite. Picking a piece of string off her skirt, she flicked it onto the floor, speaking to Allen with her back turned to him. "I hate to tell you this, Agent Allen, but everyone in this hospital knows what that team is doing. Most of us saw the victims on television when they were brought into the hospital, and none of us thought they'd survive. What those surgeons and nurses are doing down there is the stuff miracles are made of. If you're goal is to keep this quiet, you've already lost." Allen's eyes bore into the back of her head.

"McIntyre's on his way," said Slocum. He looked at Leah. "He's not happy."

"I don't suppose he is."

Hospital employees asked him how surgery went as Trapper moved swiftly down the hall to the elevator. It wasn't that he was ignoring them, more that he was about to explode. The agent at the door of Slocum's office grabbed at his arm to stop him from entering, but Trapper jerked it away and stormed into the office. "Arnold, someone had better be dying on your floor." He stutter-stepped when he saw Leah sitting in a chair in front of Arnold's desk. Approaching her, he asked, "What is going on?"

Jerking her thumb to the back of her, she said, "The Feds are interested in your patients."

"Why are you here?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't my idea."

"Dr. McIntyre, I'm Darren Allen," he said, flashing his badge.

"FBI," said Trapper, moving his hands to his hips and looking down at the floor. He took a deep breath before he looked the man square in the eye. "I understand why you're here, but you're not doing the patient any favors by interrupting her surgery."

"Dr. McIntyre, I appreciate what you and you're team are doing, but just as soon as she's stable, she'll be moved to a military hospital."

"No, she won't. She can't be moved. It will kill her."

"I assure you, we'll have the very best of our military doctors to ensure her move doesn't kill her."

"Your military doctors can't guarantee anything, and neither can I. You have to understand the woman is patched together. She has over a thousand sutures inside her, and by the time our orthopedists are finished, probably fifty times that amount on her outsides, not including all the hardware they've used to try to save her arms and legs. We're not even moving her to an ICU room for awhile. One small jostle could tear any number of those sutures." Trapper raised a hand and pointed his finger at Allen. "You need whatever information she had on Xanda. If she dies because you move her, your case against Xanda is gone. Leaving her here is your best chance."

"McIntyre, we have to get her to a secure location."

"You try to move her, and I'll pull every string I can to stop you."

The two men glared at each other in a stalemate for a tense moment until Agent Allen turned his attention to Leah. "Ms. Haverty, you will erase all records for Ellen Frank from your computer system."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Then I'll have my own people do it."

"No, you won't," said Leah, standing and facing him. "The functions of this hospital are tightly regulated by the computer system; a system required by regulations of the same government you work for. The doctors can't order her medication or the equipment she'll need in the ICU room. They can't reschedule her for surgery, if required, without it. They can't even order a piece of gauze without that computer system."

"Then your own computer system could be putting her life at risk."

Leah crossed her arms and looked away. "I doubt that."

"Look, you two. These people were thrown into a garbage compactor. Whoever did that didn't plan for them to come out alive, and if they're that intent on shutting them up, they'll be here in your hospital, and you won't even know it."

"Then why don't you take care of security, Agent Allen, and let us take care of the patient?" asked Trapper almost yelling.

"Ms. Haverty, what happens if you change her status to expired?"

"A dead patient doesn't require medication or anything else. Her doctors won't be able to get anything for her. But what we can do is enter her records under an alias."

Agent Allen puffed up. "Surely, your _tightly regulated_ system won't allow that."

"It will flag the record when eligibility isn't found. It's not a fatal error because we do get people in here from other countries who have no social security number. That notification goes on a report to be worked manually in the hospital's business office. I can intercept those reports."

Trapper sat on the side of Arnold's desk, and the two men watched the antagonistic conversation between Leah and Agent Allen continue.

"Who in the hospital has access to the records?" asked Agent Allen, looking for hole he could exploit.

Looking stoically at him, Leah crossed her arms. "Everyone who works with a patient as well as the business office. I can restrict access to everyone except key personnel."

"The chance of someone breaking a password increases by the number of key personnel."

"A person trying to break into the system would need more than a password. They'd also need a passkey which only the owner of a user ID knows. I'm the only person who can override a passkey."

"I don't think you understand, Ms. Haverty. Passwords…passkeys…they can all be broken."

Leah looked down at her feet, breathing deeply before she looked back up. "Then we can limit access to Dr. Applebaum, Dr. McIntyre, the attending nurse and myself. I can change our passkeys to sixteen by sixteen bit encryption. Even if someone has a password decoding device, I can program the system to detect it, and if the first three or four strings are decoded, the system will regenerate all sixteen strings, and they'll have to start over. The system will page me when it has to regenerate the strings, so not only will I know that someone has tried to hack in, I'll know where they tried. I'll also be able to provide the new encrypted passkey to whoever got hacked." She gave him a condescending smile. "I know the government is familiar with the use of decoding devices, but the difference is that while most decoding devices available decode decimal numbers, my encryption is binary. One whole number in decimal is the equivalent of a byte in binary. Each byte is made up of eight bits, and that is the level that I create my encryptions."

Trapper and Arnold watched the exchange and glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and smiles at Agent Allen's sudden discomfort.

"You can do that?"

"I wouldn't offer to do it if I couldn't."

"Do you realize that once the bad guys figure out you're the key to the computer system, your life could be in danger?" Agent Allen positioned himself between Trapper and Arnold at the desk and Leah, addressing Trapper. "All of you could be in danger in the beginning, but once they figure out they can't get past the passkeys, they'll turn their attention to you, Ms. Haverty."

She folded her lips into a tight line and exhaled loudly. "Ellen Franks can't be moved. I don't see another choice."

"Now wait a minute," said Trapper, standing and glaring at Leah, then looking back at Allen. "What difference does it make if they find her records? Can't you protect a single room in a hospital? How desperate are these people to keep her quiet?"

"Dr. McIntyre, what she knows could close Xanda down. They're only work is government contracts, many of them defense contracts specifically dealing with nukes and nuclear waste. Xanda does have competition, so the government has choices. Without those contracts, a billion dollar corporation fails and takes all the suits employed there with it, and some of those will go to prison."

"Answer the second question; can't you protect a single room in a hospital?"

"We can, but you know as well as I do the government always has contingencies, _Captain McIntyre_. So what we are going to do is change Ms. Frank's hospital record to show that she's dead, we're going to establish a record under an alias with only her ongoing treatment, _and_ we are going to limit access to those records using Ms. Haverty's encryption programs to secure them." Agent Allen moved his jacket back to place a hand on his hip. He pointed a finger of the other hand at Trapper. "And if you give me any problems, I'll bring you back to active duty. Then if you decide you don't want to obey orders, you'll face a court martial."

"What's the military got to do with this?" yelled Trapper, stepping into Agent Allen, who stood up straight to face him.

"They'll be providing your protection," he yelled back.

Moving next to Trapper and squeezing his arm, Leah said quietly, "Nukes, Trapper. It's not Xanda failing that has the government scrambling. It's the disposition of the nuclear material."


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

Leah sat in a chair in her executive office with an obstinate frown, her arms and legs crossed and one foot tapping the air. Trapper sat in the chair at the front side of her desk listening intently to the questions asked by Agent Allen after he hung up from a phone call and her answers.

"Apparently, Ms. Haverty, you have a high-level government clearance. Redstone Arsenal? NASA?" asked Agent Allen.

"My first assignment after I went back to work was to create a database of the telecommunications systems at Redstone. In order to do that, an inventory had to be taken of the equipment and cabling, and in order to do that, I had to be on the premises. My second assignment was to update the programs for the interactive displays at George Marshall Space Flight Center, and to do that, I had to work in their control room. Because my company frequently works on government contracts, they actively renew my clearance in the event they need me in that capacity."

"So this encryption you suggested…it's something you wrote for the government?"

"No. I have always used the standard government encryption on all my government jobs. They didn't want to pay me for a better encryption solution, so I didn't develop it for them. The private sector has always thought it was too advanced for their needs. So I developed it on my own while I wasn't working. I've only tested it. I've never implemented it in a business application." She breathed deeply before she continued. "If I use it here, it will become the property of my company. My contract with them contains an intellectual property clause."

"Dr. McIntyre, I understand you live in an active area of San Francisco…across from a park. Does any of your family live with you?"

"No, I live alone. Why are you asking?" asked Trapper suspiciously.

"Dr. Applebaum has agreed to stay at a nearby hotel. He has family at home and doesn't want them to be involved in any problems that might arise from keeping Ms. Frank here. You and Ms. Haverty apparently live alone, but your house is much more exposed than her guest house."

Sitting up straight and moving her arms to her desk, Leah asked, "How do you know I live in a guest house?"

Agent Allen looked at the floor for a moment as he snorted, and then looked back up. "It appears you have people watching out for your welfare, Ms. Haverty. We contacted your company and were referred to Doug Manning." An uncomfortable chill ran down Leah's spine. Picking up on her dismay, Trapper tensed. "He told us your office and your home could be easily isolated," said Agent Allen.

Her agitation slowly grew into feelings of anger and betrayal. She hadn't told the company about the office or her new address. "Excuse me for a moment," she spat as she stood and left the room. Sticking her head in Arnold's door and finding him gone, she entered, closing the door behind her. She picked up the receiver of the phone and started to dial, but stopped and pushed down the switch buttons. It was Albert who gave her the name of the realtor for the guest house. Instead of dialing Doug's number she dialed Albert's.

"Hello, this is Leah Haverty Lewis. I'd like to speak with Mr. Shaeffer, please. Yes, I'll hold."

"Leah, it's good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"I just need some answers, Albert, regarding my home. What prompted you to call me with the name of a realtor when I first moved to San Francisco?"

"Your boss, Doug Manning, asked me to help you find a nice place that was secure. He called me again only a week or so ago. I just happened to have a friend who was looking for someone to rent their pool house, and you met their qualifications, and of course, I gave you an excellent reference."

"Do you know anything about my executive office at the hospital?"

"No, but Mr. Manning did mention that he didn't like you in the basement with no one around you."

"Do me a favor, Albert. If Doug asks you to do anything else for me, would you please let me know?"

"Why? What's wrong?" asked Albert, sounding alarmed.

"I can't be absolutely sure, but it seems Doug's arranged for my housing, and now it appears he's arranged for a more visible office. He knows things…private things…about me that he shouldn't. Have you mentioned anything to him about my portfolio?"

"No, other than to say that you don't have to work. That's all confidential. I wouldn't do that. But do I need to do something about Doug?"

"At some point, maybe. But for right now, don't do anything, and if he calls you again, feign ignorance, but let me know what he wants."

"Leah, what else does he know?"

"Personal things, Albert. Things about my close relationships here. He'd have no way of knowing that from where he is…in New York…unless he has someone watching me."

"Do you want me to find that out for you? I have an excellent investigator."

She had no idea what she would do with such information, but it might be good to have, just in case. "Yes, Albert. I think I would like you to do that."

"Consider it done. I'll let you know as soon as we find anything."

Leah had been looking out of Arnold's window and didn't hear Trapper quietly enter the office. "It seems you have a problem."

Spinning around, her eyes were wide for a moment before she calmed down and hung up the phone. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear that you're boss could be stepping over a line. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing at the moment," she said, moving her hand to her forehead. "Why is he spying on me?"

Trapper smiled and approached her, taking her hands in his. "I'm sure it's nothing sinister." Lowering his head, he looked into her eyes, seeing her angst. "He probably just wants a jump on someone trying to steal you away. You seem to be a hot commodity with government experience."

She gazed at him inconsolably. "What has the job got to do with you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, putting his arms around her .

"The last time I spoke to Doug, he said he knew about you. Why would he care about you?"

"Maybe he sees me as someone who could steal you away." She exhaled and let her head fall back. "Think about it," he said, pulling her into him. "Without friends…" He bent to whisper in her ear. "Or lovers…he has your full attention; the perfect employee. What does your contract say?"

Shaking off a chill of a different kind, she answered, "My contract is on an assignment basis. I have no obligation to the company other than that…except that anything I develop during my tenure belongs to the company as intellectual property. But I find it disturbing that he can find out things about me so easily, and that he's apparently perfectly willing to share," she barked, waving her hand at the door. "I really don't want to work for him anymore."

"Then don't."

"I have a contract."

"Okay. Finish your contract, and then leave. I'm sure you can find work somewhere else. You can always use me as a reference, and I'm sure Arnold would give you a reference as well." He caught her eyes and raised his brows.

"I suppose," she said with a slight smile.

"Now, Agent Allen has proposed that instead of me staying at my house, I stay with you." He winced before he continued. "It seems that your employer told him we're an item, so he didn't think either of us would have a problem. That way, he can put one man in the front and another man on the stairs to the beach, and no one will be able to get to us since the house is fairly isolated on a cliff."

"You realize that will give us no privacy, don't you?"

"Yes, well, I think it's time for you to hang curtains," he said, leading her to the door.

When he opened it, two men in black suits were waiting for them outside Arnold's office. "Agent Allen and Mr. Slocum are waiting for you." Glancing at each other with portentous looks, both headed for the conference room.


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

Trapper sat at his computer, staring at the screen. Once he hit the button, his name would go on a false death certificate; something he knew could be considered perjury if anyone wanted to pursue it. But he had agreed that before he left the hospital, Ellen Frank would expire, and consequently Arnold would hold a press conference that would hit the late evening news. After that, he could only guess what may or may not occur. He pressed the enter button and watched the computer change her status to expired. Then he picked up the phone and dialed. "Is Allen with you?" He heard what sounded like an exasperated breath on the other end.

"He's been standing over my shoulder ever since I started. I keep telling him he's slowing me down."

"Would you tell him my part is done? It's Arnold's turn now. How are you coming along?"

"I'm almost finished testing, and as soon as I show Agent Allen that it works, I'll install it and let it configure the new encrypted passkeys. Allen will deliver Dr. Applebaum's and Ernie's, and I'll have yours with me."

"I have to go by the house and pick up some clothes. Is there anything else I can pick up?"

"I have no wine, so if you want wine while you're at my place, you need to get some."

"Do I get white or red?"

"Some of each. If you get there first, you can start dinner. There are several choices; just raid the fridge."

Trapper chuckled. "You planned it this way, didn't you? I'll see you there."

Gathering the files and charts he still needed to review, he shoved them into his satchel, slipped on his jacket and left, first for the wine market, and then to Leah's house and was followed all the way.

"I can't get in with this decoder," said Allen. "So I think your programming will do it."

Leah had already started gathering her paperwork, shoving it into her briefcase. "Good, then if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."

"Just a minute, Ms. Haverty. How did you get to nukes earlier today?"

"What do you mean?"

"I told you Xanda wanted Ms. Frank dead because she could close the company and send the higher-ups to prison. You zoned in on nukes."

"Oh, come on," she said incredulously. Two plus two equals four, Agent."

Allen smirked. "I'm not sure most people would draw that line. Do you drive with that foot in a cast?"

"No, I don't. If Dr. McIntyre isn't available to take me home, I take a cab."

Allen made a call. "I need a cab in front of the hospital with one of our guys driving. No, he needs to look like a cabbie."

"Agent Allen, can I offer you some advice?" she asked as she stopped loading her briefcase.

"I'd rather you didn't, but I know that won't stop you." He continued putting his decoding equipment away without even looking at her.

She chuckled. "The military nurses you have with Ms. Frank are fine. They actually look like nurses. But the men…an idiot could spot them as military a mile away."

Finally paying attention, Allen stopped what he was doing and scrutinized her. "How do you mean?"

"Their posture, the way they carry themselves when they walk, and especially their hair styles scream military. I know the men you have watching Dr. McIntyre and me and my house are not military. They're FBI…your guys."

"It's that bad?"

She raised her brows and said, "They're a dead giveaway," as she reached over to pick up her ringing phone. "Leah Hav…just a moment. For you," she said, glaring and passing the phone.

"Yeah. We'll be right out," he said, hanging up the phone. "Your cab's here. Ms. Haverty, I'll need your home phone number."

"You have it in my file," she said, limping to the elevator.

"Yes, but I don't carry your file with me. If something happens here, I may need to contact you to stay away from the hospital."

Once on board the elevator, she took a business card out of her purse and wrote her home number on the back, then passed the card to him. "That might be all right for me, but you will not keep Dr. McIntyre away. He takes his patient's welfare as well as the safety of the hospital staff very seriously. And by the way, here's your pager."

"What's this for?"

"The encryption software will send a page to my pager and that pager if an entry attempt by a decoder is detected." Handing him a piece of paper, she continued, "Here's a list of codes it can send. These tell you the area and the computer where the break-in was attempted. I figured by the time I got the page and called you, and you called whoever you needed to, the hacker would be long gone. This removes the time associated with one of those steps."

"Can you get me another one?"

"You'll have it tomorrow."

Sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other and reading through a stapled medical report, Trapper looked up when he heard the sliding door open. He watched as Leah dropped her briefcase on the sofa, walked into the kitchen area, prepared a concoction made up of a powder and glass of water, and then ran her fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp. She gave way to another set of fingers, strong ones, pushing up into her hair from the back and taking over the massage. "If you keep this up, you can have anything you want. Anything at all," she purred.

Moving his hands down, he kneaded her neck and shoulders. "Your muscles are tighter than a drumhead. Did something else happen?"

"No. I just don't work well with an audience breathing down my neck." Trapper lowered his hands to her arms, but she implored, "Please, don't stop."

Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed her cheek. "I have to check our dinner in the oven, but I promise I'll give you a back rub tonight." She admired him as he bent down and opened the oven. "This still needs some time. I just put it in."

"Can Allen really bring you back to active duty?"

"By the rules, no. The military can only involuntarily reinstate someone who retired or was separated which means they had further plans for them. I only had three years service, so I wasn't eligible for retirement. They discharged me before the war was over. I didn't even see it through to the end."

"So he's bluffing."

"Probably."

"Good. Now why are you still in your work clothes, Dr. McIntyre?" He looked down at himself and shrugged. His tie was loosened, but everything else he had worn to the office was still intact. Grabbing the tie, she pulled him toward bathroom. "Come with me. I'll help you change."

A crooked smile appeared on his face. "Only if I get to return the favor."

Leaning over the back of the sofa behind Trapper, Leah passed a glass of wine to him as he read through his medical reports. "This isn't fair. If I have to stop working after eight hours, why don't you? And don't tell me you didn't have heart surgery. It seems to me you're as likely to need heart surgery as me, considering how much you work." She walked around the sofa and sat next to him, snuggling against his shoulder and biting his earlobe. "Dinner was wonderful. What do you call that?"

Her ministrations at his ear didn't seem to do anything for him. He simply raised an eyebrow and said, "A casserole," as he continued flipping through his report.

Sitting back, Leah said, "I suppose if my skin was laid open from my chest to my coochipop, exposing my internal organs, you'd be all over me, wouldn't you?"

"Mm hm."

Shooting up off the sofa with a disgusted growl, she went to the television and turned on the news while Trapper watched over his glasses wearing playful smile. She returned to the sofa, sitting with her good leg underneath her, and as the news came on, Arnold's voice caught their attention. Setting his report to the side, he moved his arm around her shoulders, waiting for the program introduction to pass. Gazing at her even as she stuck her chin up in the air and turned away, a restrained smile appeared on his lips. "Coochipop?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but Arnold was on the television screen again announcing with what seemed like great remorse that shortly after Ms. Frank had been moved from the operating room to ICU, she had succumbed to her injuries. When the reporter asked why investigators were still at the hospital, Arnold said, "As you know, Jason Wright's death is being investigated as a murder. Ms. Frank's case was, of course, being treated as attempted murder which now becomes murder. The investigators will be here for a few more days asking questions of all our staff who were involved in their care, and of course, the hospital is giving them our full cooperation."

Arnold excused himself as the camera focused on the reporter. "Our Livermore, California correspondent went to Xanda National Laboratories and spoke to the CEO, Tom Harris."

"Mr. Harris, as you know, one of the two scientists involved in what the police initially considered attempted murder died the evening they were found in a trash compactor. We've just been informed that the second victim, Ms. Ellen Frank, has died as well. Do you have any comment?"

Showing a surprising lack of emotion, Mr. Harris answered. "Myself and all the staff here at Xanda mourn the deaths of our co-workers and friends, Jason and Ellen. It's difficult to imagine that someone could do what was done to them to any living being. We will be cooperating fully with investigators working to find the perpetrators and bring them to justice."

"Mr. Harris, do you feel the attack on the two scientists had anything to do with their work here at Xanda?"

"It seems unlikely. They were involved in research dealing with distribution systems for eco-friendly crop pesticides." Someone whispered in his ear. "Please excuse me, "he said, turning and leaving the reporter with a live camera.

"Apparently, there's a lot going on at Xanda National Labs tonight," said the reporter. "We'll be here, getting the reaction of laboratory workers for the next few days."

Leah stood and turned the television off. "They don't seem upset at all, do they?"

"It's Xanda," said Trapper, rising from the sofa. "They've been investigated so many times no one really expects them to act otherwise."

"I don't recall them ever being involved in a murder investigation."

"No. Mostly cover-ups. But they've been getting cockier over the years. Maybe they stepped it up. And speaking of stepping up," said Trapper, taking one of Leah's hands and backing toward the dais on which the bed sat.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter Sixty**

Rolling from one side of the bed to the other between the satin sheets, Trapper and Leah held each other in a lover's embrace, the relative silence broken only by a sporadic deep chuckle or lilting giggle, and the occasional 'oo', 'ah', moan or growl; sounds that accompany intimacy along with a squeak coming from the bed frame if they moved too quickly. Poised eye-to-eye, they froze when a distinctly different noise pierced those mostly mellifluous sounds. Turning away from each other, both said, "It's mine," as they reached for their pagers on their respective bedside tables. Without another thought of each other, both stood and while Leah headed for the bathroom and clean clothes, Trapper picked up the phone and dialed the hospital.

Moments later he joined her in the bathroom. "What's yours?" asked Trapper.

"An attempted system breach. Someone's in the hospital that shouldn't be there."

"Yours?" she asked as she pulled her jeans on.

"That was Applebaum. There are several people walking the hall in greens that he doesn't recognize."

"I didn't expect anyone to be looking this soon," she said, leaving the bathroom, grabbing the strap of her purse and heading for the door with Trapper right behind her. "They tried to hack your computer."

"My computer?" he said as they made their way up the walkway and through the gate to his car. Trapper opened her door, waiting for her to move her casted foot in, and then went around to the driver's side.

"It makes perfect sense. Your office is well isolated, especially late at night when there aren't many people around. Do you lock your office at night?"

"No. I never needed to. All the file cabinets and my desk are locked."

"Well, now that you have a computer, you should." When she saw a frown appear on his face, she moved a hand to his thigh. "It wouldn't have mattered. If they're sophisticated enough to attempt a system hack, your door lock wouldn't have stopped them."

When they arrived at the hospital, Allen's men escorted them the rest of the way to Trapper's office. They arrived as a man dressed in scrubs, a white lab coat and wearing handcuffs was being led out. "Ms. Haverty," said Agent Allen, who was just rising from Trapper's desk chair, "can you find out what he was trying to look at?"

She took a deep breath and walked around the desk to the keyboard of the computer. "That seems obvious, Agent Allen."

Trapper turned to leave. "While you do that, I'm going down to check on the patient."

"She's fine, Dr. McIntyre. No one has been in her room except for Dr. Applebaum and the military nurses."

"Well, if you don't mind," Trapper answered with a patronizing smile, "I'd like to see for myself."

Before he left, Leah and Allen's pagers went off, prompting them both to look. "They're in my computer room," growled Leah, heading for the door.

"Wait just a minute," said Allen, grabbing her arm and pulling her back, moving her in front of Trapper. "Keep her here until I call."

When Agent Allen left, she tried to follow, but Trapper took her arms. "He's right. You need to stay here until they clear the basement."

"But…"

"No buts," he said calmly, moving his arm around her shoulder and guiding her toward his desk. "After doing what they did to Wright and Frank, they'd have no problem getting you out of the way quickly and permanently. Can't you do what you need to do from here?" Trapper asked, motioning toward his computer.

She sat down hard in his chair and began typing in commands as Trapper moved behind her to watch. She was typing and moving from one screen to the next so fast, he couldn't really keep up. "What are you doing?"

"I'm locking down the tape library and all the tape drives, and I'm disabling all the computer terminals down there." In another minute, she said, "There. They can't get to anything above the floor. Now I just need to bring up the port map and make sure they don't plug directly into the mainframe ports under the floor."

Sitting on the side of the desk, Trapper asked, "If you can do all that from here, why were you so anxious to get down there."

"Because, I have two operators down there at night to mount tapes and take care of any abends…sorry programs that end abnormally…abnormal end…abend. Who do you think pages me when there's a problem?"

Trapper frowned at the sharpness of her response, but let it go, knowing he would be just as worried about his people under similar circumstances. Then he remembered that he did have people in what might turn in to bad situation. Taking a deep breath, he rose from the desk and walked to the door. "Excuse me. I'm going to check on my patient…and my staff."

"That's not fair. You get to check on your staff, but I don't get to check on mine?" she said, fuming.

Trapper held his hands out to his sides. "My area hasn't been compromised." She turned away. "Leah, look at me." Once she slowly turned back to face him, he said, "That's only because you're doing an exceptional job at protecting the information." Holding his hand like a gun and cocking it at her, he winked, smiled and left before he could see the corner of her mouth turning up into a proud smile.

Still, she wasn't going to sit alone in that office like an obedient school girl. As soon as Trapper had time to turn the corner down the hall, she was on her way to that corner to peer around it. What she didn't know was that as soon as she left the office, the phone rang with Agent Allen on the other end.

"Damn that woman. Can't she do anything I ask her without questioning it? You," he said, grabbing one of his men. "Go up and get Leah Haverty. I need to find out what files were compromised down here. And as soon as the van gets here, get these men loaded and on their way to The Presidio. And page Dr. McIntyre. He won't be able to do anything for the guy over there, but this one's still alive."

In the confusion of the melee in the basement, Allen's guards had left the elevator unattended, so after Trapper disappeared behind its doors, Leah pushed the down button and waited. The man Allen had sent to find her met her when the doors opened to the basement. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Haverty. Get out of my way," she answered, shoving past him and limping toward the mainframe. She froze when she saw Hector Ramirez face down on the raised floor. "Oh, God," she whispered, raising a hand to her mouth, her eyes fixed on the figure lying on the floor until she began to look around her. "Mike. Where's Mike?"

Allen stepped between her and Hector's body. "Mike's over here. I've sent for Dr. McIntyre."

Kneeling down next to Mike who was lying on the floor near the tape shelves, she smiled as she brushed his hair from his forehead. "Mike, I'm so sorry. The job description certainly didn't include getting shot, did it?"

"Ms. Ha…Haverty? Is H…H…Hector alright. I heard him yell."

"Hector…" she turned back toward the mainframe and looked at Hector's still body, "…is being taken care of. Let's just worry about you for right now, okay? Dr. McIntyre is on his way," she said softly, taking Mike's hand. "I'll wait for him with you."

"Ms. Haverty, you don't have time to wait. I need to know what information they were able to get to."

"Give me your jacket, you heartless bastard," she spat, glaring back over her shoulder at Agent Allen. After she laid the jacket over Mike to keep him warm for he was beginning to shiver, she spoke to Allen without taking her eyes off of Mike. "They mostly likely didn't get into anything. I locked everything down from McIntyre's office." Allen began to turn away, but stopped at the word, "But…"

"But what?"

"I don't know if I got to the mainframe ports in time. Where any of the floor panels disturbed?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because there are direct access ports underneath the raised floor…in case of an emergency and if we've lost the terminals. I need to check under the moved panels."

"Ms. Haverty, is there room under that floor for someone to hide?"

"Yes, but only in certain places, and even then it would be tight squeeze."

Allen didn't wait for Leah to finish. He was already on his way back to the raised floor, motioning for his men to spread out and be ready, all of them pulling their guns from their shoulder holsters. No one bothered looking to see who had just stepped off the elevator. Trapper saw the commotion and headed toward the mainframe, but a familiar voice drew him to the tape shelves.

"Trapper, this is Mike," said Leah quietly as Trapper knelt next to them. "Mike, Dr. McIntyre will take good care of you." Both Leah and Trapper looked up when they heard yelling near the mainframe.

When Leah stood to go over, Trapper grabbed her wrist. "Stay here."

Twisting her hand to escape Trapper's grip, Leah protested. "It's my job to protect that mainframe."

"Not this time. Allen's men had their guns drawn when I stepped off the elevator, and with the yelling, you know something's not right. "You're staying right here," he said in a tone more like an order with an increasingly firm grasp of her wrist.

"I don't take orders from you," she snapped in a barely controlled rage.

"Leah!" he said through gritted teeth. "You and I are going to move Mike to your office out of the way of whatever is going on over there." Taking a deep, calming breath, he nodded his head toward the tape library desk. "He's got a shoulder wound, and he's lost some blood. Get that rolling chair and help me get him into it."

She sneered when she rose to get the chair, and as she turned back with it, a chill ran through her as she watched Allen's men pull a writhing, kicking person from underneath the raised floor, and then slam him down on his chest, drawing his arms behind him to handcuff him. Agent Allen saw her and motioned her over.

"I'll be with you in a moment," she called back, rolling the chair to Trapper. "Why don't you just call for a gurney?" she asked calmly. "It appears the worst is over. Allen wants me on the raised floor."

Trapper stood, and moving his hands to his hips, he looked up at her from under his brow with a look she was just beginning to recognize, a mixture of ire and apprehension. "Where's your other technician?"

Moving a hand to his chest, bowing her head, and then looking back up into his eyes, conveying her apology and her sorrow, she quietly answered, "Hector is dead."

Trapper's mouth opened at the same time he crooked his jaw. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." Then his nostrils flared as his anger rose. "This ends here."


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter Sixty-One**

Arnold Slocum sat at his desk, looking up at the three people who were talking all at once, alternately arguing and addressing him. Finally, he held up his hands.

"Stop! I can't understand a word any of you are saying. Please, one at a time."

Trapper, Leah and Agent Allen stood silently, wondering who was going first. It was Agent Allen who eventually spoke. "I guess the first question is did they get any information?"

"Did who get any information?" asked Arnold.

"Six men broke into the tape library and the raised floor holding the mainframe computer in the basement," Allen answered.

Arnold stood and leaned over his desk. "And just how did they get in?"

"We're still working on that. They didn't use the elevator, so there must be another way in the basement besides the doors."

Leah threw up her hands, turned and sat in one of the chairs in front of Arnold's desk. "Does it really matter now? The damage has been done. There's nothing you can do to change it."

"What damage?" shouted Arnold who didn't seem to be getting any worthwhile answers.

Trapper's hand went up to calm Arnold. "There was a break-in in the basement, but Leah thinks she got everything shut down before they could get any information."

Leah leaned forward and tossed a cartridge tape on Arnold's desk. "That's all the information on Ellen Frank. I transferred it from the mainframe storage to that tape, and that tape has been locked in my desk. They didn't get to it. There was a device under the floor they were using to try to copy all the hospital files. I was able to shut the ports down right after they started." She set another smaller tape on the desk. "That's the tape from their equipment. They weren't able to download much. But what does it matter now? Trapper's going to have Ellen Frank moved."

"Arnold," said Trapper, pausing to take a deep breath before he said his next words. "One of Leah's technicians was killed…shot. A second man is being treated for a gunshot wound. He'll live."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Arnold glanced up at Trapper, and then looked to Leah. "I'm sorry, Ms. Haverty. Who were they?"

"Hector Ramirez is the man who was killed. Mike Stanley is the one being treated. They were student interns, gentlemen, who volunteered to stay on while all this was going on, believing they were being protected." As she spoke, her voice grew louder, and when she finished, she was glaring at Agent Allen. Dropping her forehead into her hand, she continued. "Hector was a tape ape…the guy who retrieved tapes from the library and mounted them on the tape drives when there was a restore request. That happens frequently for old files…the system moves them off to tape. Mike is the actual operator. He sits at a console and watches the batch system run and makes sure all the jobs complete successfully. Both were students at San Francisco State. But it doesn't matter now. You can't change what happened."

"No," said Trapper. "But we can make damn sure it doesn't happen again. Arnold, this isn't simply a bunch of corporate suits who are afraid of losing their jobs. You don't kill people over a job. I think Leah was right," he said, moving his gaze to Agent Allen. "This is about the nuclear material held at Xanda. For all we know, this thing could be international. Isn't that right, Agent Allen?"

Allen raised a defiant chin. "That's confidential information."

Trapper scoffed. "If that wasn't a confirmation, I don't know what is." Turning back to Arnold, Trapper continued, "I'm no longer willing to treat Ms. Frank here at the hospital. I've made arrangements to have her moved to Letterman Army Hospital at the Presidio. It's close enough that Dr. Applebaum and I can still consult, and it's a fairly new state-of-the-art facility."

"And just how do you propose getting her there without killing her. We need her alive," yelled Allen.

"I've already spoken to George Standiver, Lettermen's Chief of Surgery. She's been stable for twenty-four hours now, so we'll be life-flighting her over this afternoon. He's coming here to examine her before she goes."

"You can't just send her somewhere else without the proper authorization," said Allen, now standing right in front of Trapper.

"Agent Allen, I still have friends in the service…good friends who just happen to agree this is bigger than you. I contacted an old colleague, Dr. Benjamin Pierce, who then called Lt. General Sherman Potter. He authorized this move. If you've got a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with him. But hurry," Trapper said in a low voice, looking down at Leah still sitting in the chair. "He's getting ready to retire." His wink got a crooked smile out of her.

Standing outside Ellen Frank's ICU room, Trapper discussed her injuries with Dr. Standiver from Letterman as Leah paced back and forth in front of the nurse's station.

"Leah, why are you so nervous about this?" asked Ernie who was looking for Ellen's chart.

"I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right." Leah stopped pacing. "What are you looking for?"

"Ms. Frank's original chart. I've got _Ms. Davis'_ new chart here, but I can't find the old one."

"Stop looking. The old paper chart was destroyed."

"Why on earth would they do that? If they wanted to show she was dead, you'd think that a doctor's signature in a chart would only confirm it."

"I guess they didn't want anyone to have specifics on her treatment. It would be too easy to match that to Ms. Davis' ongoing treatments. Anyway, the paper chart was destroyed after everything was entered into the computer. I can recreate it if necessary."

Walking up to them, Trapper asked, "Ernie, are you ready? We'll be moving her up to the helipad as soon as the guards are in place." Ernie nodded. "Leah, I need a printed copy of her original chart. How long do you think that will take?"

"Only a couple of minutes. I'll bring it to you while you get her loaded into the helicopter." Leah left for the print room where it would be quicker for her to use the terminal there to order the print, and then wait for it.

Trapper, Dr. Standiver and Ernie walked behind the gurney as Guardsmen moved it from outside the door of the ICU to the elevator. Ellen lay on an air mattress and was surrounded by air-filled cushions designed to insulate her from sudden bumps from the gurney. With her tucked snuggly between the side cushions, it also provided a sturdy enough surface that when she was moved from the bed to the gurney and then to the helicopter, her body was exposed to only a minimal amount of movement.

Trapper checked her vitals again in the elevator. "She's still stable," he said, looking seriously up at Dr. Standiver who took a deep breath and nodded. "George, you seem a little nervous."

He smiled. "I'll feel much better when she's in my hospital surrounded by Guardsmen. Not to slight your efforts here, John, but the chances for whoever is trying to kill this woman are nil on the base compared to a public hospital."

"No insult taken, George. I agree. She doesn't belong here."

When they arrived on the roof, the Guardsmen held them in the elevator until the helicopter had set down, military sentinels surrounded it, and Letterman Hospital personnel had the interior ready to receive the patient. A line of sentry standing shoulder to shoulder formed from the elevator to the chopper, and the group in the elevator began their journey.

As Ms. Frank was moved into the helicopter, Leah emerged from the elevator with her file and was escorted by a Guardsman to the chopper. Ducking more so because of the sound and wind created by the propellers than the propellers themselves, she passed the file to Dr. Standiver who had just stepped into the helicopter when a shot rang out. At first, everyone turned toward the shot, but when a shout came for everyone to get down on the ground, Trapper pulled Ernie and Leah into him in each arm and took them down to the surface of the helipad. Leah barely noticed the sound of another shot because the breath had been knocked from her from Trapper's weight falling onto her chest.

Guardsmen now surrounded those still on the ground as the door of the helicopter was slammed shut, and the machine climbed into the air at the same time it moved away from the direction of the gunfire.

Ernie lay still as she listened to the shouts around her.

"Sniper, two hundred yards northeast, edge of roof."

The Guardsmen's own sniper looked, and spotting the distant figure yelled, "Got him."

Steadying his rifle, he peered through the scope and pulled the trigger in only a matter of seconds, proclaiming, "Threat neutralized."

Another yell of "Recover," sent a number of the Guardsmen down the elevator even as several crouched at the side of the building with scopes looking for more snipers and making sure the one they knew about didn't get up. Still more Guardsmen swarmed over everyone on the tarmac.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

Ernie, realizing something was wrong with Trapper, struggled to crawl from under him, but just as soon as she was out, she was swiftly brought to her feet and rushed to the elevator. In another minute, two more Guardsmen came into the elevator, carrying an unconscious Trapper between them, carefully laying him on the floor. Another Guardsman came in carrying Leah in his arms. Blood covered her blouse. "What floor?" asked one of them.

"Push one. Emergency is always on the first floor."

By this time, Ernie had shaken off the shock of the moment and knelt next to Trapper, looking for a wound. The front of his shirt was bloody, and she soon found the bullet hole. Then she moved him to his side and found his back soaked with blood. The bullet had gone through from the back to the front. The minute the door opened onto the emergency department, she was yelling out the door, "Stanley, Trapper's been shot!"

Dr. Riverside and Dr. Gates had been standing at the nurse's station when the elevator door opened and heard Ernie's voice come out in what sounded like a tempered shriek. Both men ran into the elevator, kneeling at Trapper first, but looking back up at Leah, still limp in the Guardsman's arms.

Calmly, Stanley told the nurse who had followed them to get two gurneys and call for an OR. The Guardsmen lifted Trapper onto one, laid Leah on the other, and without anyone realizing, disappeared, their job done.

Gonzo cut Trapper's pullover shirt up the middle of the front and examined the wound. He felt Trapper's back, looking for the entry wound. "I'll need some middle thorax x-rays."

"What are you looking for," asked Ernie. "The bullet went clean through."

"Ernie, based on where it went through, we'll be very lucky if it didn't hit anything major on the way. You go with him. Get him cleaned up, and put some pressure on those wounds. After you get the pictures, go ahead and take him to the OR and get him prepped. I want to take a look at Leah. She's pretty bloody herself."

"It's probably Trapper's," said Ernie, pulling up the side rails of the gurney.

"Ernie," said Gonzo, looking into her eyes. "The bullet went through Trapper. It had to go somewhere, and it looks like Leah was in front of him." Taking Ernie's hands, he realized she was shaking. He called Gloria over and sent her to x-ray with Trapper. "You're staying here for a minute," he said to Ernie, walking around her, checking her whites. "I don't see any blood."

"I wasn't hit."

"Are you sure?"

"Dr. Gates, I was a nurse in a MASH unit. It's…just been awhile since I've had to hit the dirt. I'm fine."

"Good," said Gonzo, smiling. "You can help me with Leah until they get those x-rays of Trapper. If she caught the bullet, we need to get it out." They rolled Leah into an exam room. Ernie waited while Stanley and Gonzo searched for a wound.

"What are you looking for?" asked Leah, barely whispering.

Moving her hair away from her forehead, Gonzo leaned over her. "Hi, gorgeous. Do you remember what happened?"

As she concentrated, her eyes flew open wide, and she struggled to sit up. "Trapper! Where's Trapper?"

"Whoa there," said Gonzo as he and Stanley pushed her back down. "He's being taken care of. Right now, we're taking care of you. We have to find out where all this blood came from."

"It's not mine. It's Trapper's," she answered, looking down at her chest and hands. "Please, Gonzo, I think Trapper was shot. He grabbed me when they told us to get on the ground, but then he just fell on top of me."

Taking her face in his hands, Gonzo leaned over her again, face to face. "Listen to me. I know you're concerned about Trapper. He's in x-ray, and then he's going into surgery. The bullet went through him, and you were standing in front of him. Some of this blood might actually be yours. Now think. Do you hurt anywhere?" Her eyes darted back and forth as she thought about pain, and in a split second, she was looking at her arm. "Your arm?" asked Gonzo.

"Why didn't I feel that until now? That...ow…don't touch it!"

Stanley pulled a hole in her sleeve apart. "Yep, that's where it went," he said as he cut the sleeve off. "Looks like it didn't have much momentum left. It went into the bicep and stopped at the bone. Gates, I can take care of this. Why don't you and Ernie go take care of Trapper?"

Nodding, Gonzo turned to leave, but Leah caught his arm. "Gonzo?"

He smiled down at her and covered her hand with his. "I'll let you know what we've got before we go into surgery."

Leah paced in the surgical waiting room. Gonzo had sent word that some repair work would be needed, but he hadn't been specific. He only said not to worry. She knew both he and Trapper frequently said that to the families of their surgery patients when they simply didn't know what to tell them. It had been two hours, her arm was throbbing, her foot hurt, her thoughts were scattered, and the one thing she kept coming back to was _he has to be all right_.

Agent Allen stopped to check on Trapper's condition. Leah was surprised as it appeared Allen was genuinely concerned. But there was also something else there in his eyes…a sense of failure maybe. He informed her that with Ms. Frank now recuperating at an Army hospital, his job was done, but that he wanted to inform her of their findings in the breach in the basement.

"Ms. Haverty, I wanted you to know that your basement is secure. They didn't find another way in physically. They jumped one of the men under my command and replaced him with one of their own. I had never worked with most of those men before, so I nor anyone else recognized the switch. Anyway, this guy let the others in through a side door that had been secured. The alarm on the door had been disabled."

"What happened to your man?"

Allen let out a defeated breath. "They killed him. We found him in a shipping crate over by the dock."

Covering her mouth with her hand, Leah studied him. His rough exterior had taken quite a beating. "I'm sorry, Agent Allen. It does seem very senseless, doesn't it? But knowing how they got in might help me better explain to Hector and Mike's families how two interns got involved in this. Do we know yet just what information we've been protecting in defending Ms. Frank?"

"We do, but I…ah…well, it's classified. I will tell you that Dr. McIntyre was right to call in the Guard. This is much bigger than any of us first imagined." He smiled as he turned to leave. "Listen carefully to the news. If they don't break the story, I'm sure you'll figure it out. You were already on the right track. And I wouldn't worry too much about your doctor friend in there. His kind doesn't go down easily."

Leah snorted as she watched him go, recognizing the backhanded compliment. The sound of the doors to the surgical suite opening behind her made her turn around. Gonzo was walking toward her removing his surgical cap. She didn't say a word with her mouth, but Gonzo read her question in her eyes.

"He's going to be fine. We had to repair a major artery the bullet nicked, but it looks like that was all the damage. It went in just below his heart…missed by only an eighth of an inch, nicked the artery, and then was deflected by a rib which explains how it went a little sideways and hit your arm.

"Can I see him?" she asked anxiously.

"He's being moved to recovery. I'll take you in a few minutes, but Leah, he won't be conscious for a while. He's still under the affects of the anesthesia." Looking down at her clothes, he said, "Why don't I ask Ernie to take you to the nurse's locker room and find you some greens? You might be scaring the hospital visitors," he said, pointing to her blood-covered blouse.

Looking down at her blouse, she brought her hands up to the sides of her head. "I suppose so," she replied in a shaky voice.

Taking her hands, Gonzo bent to see her eyes. "Hey, he's made it. He'll have to take it easy for a little while, but he's out of danger."

While Ernie found a set of greens in Leah's size, Leah stepped into the shower to wash away the blood that had dried on her chest and stomach. Washing was difficult because she had to keep her cast and her arm dry. Tears began to flow down her cheeks even as she asked herself why she was crying. Finally, she leaned back against the shower wall, wrapped her arms around herself and stopped fighting the tears, wondering all the while why she couldn't maintain control.

By the time Ernie returned with clean greens, Leah had stepped out of the shower and was drying off. As she dressed, Ernie watched her face; every now and then Leah's brow would crease, she'd freeze for a moment, and then continue. "Are you all right?" asked Ernie.

Leah swallowed hard. "Yes, Ernie. I'm fine. I'm just…" Her eyebrows wrinkled again. "It's just been a long day."

"You know, it's okay to feel that way."

"What way?"

"Upset that you might have lost him."

Standing straight, Leah covered her mouth as salty drops began to rain down her cheeks again. Ernie hugged her. "I've already had my turn. Take your time."


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter Sixty-Three**

Standing at the foot of his bed, Leah watched Trapper breathing, comforted, at least a little, by the steady rise and fall of his chest. She looked intently at the screens surrounding him emitting discordant lines, flashes of light and bleeps of sound. Even though Gonzo said he was out of danger, she would feel no better until Trapper opened his eyes. She couldn't yet put a name on the feeling that was gnawing at her insides.

Quietly moving to the side of the bed, dropping the rail and pulling a chair close, she sat down, moved her arm out of the sling that held it and touched his hand. It felt cold to her, so she very carefully tucked it underneath the blanket that covered him, leaving her fingers entwined in his.

Laying her head on the pillow next to his, she lightly stroked his beard with the back of her fingers as she began to silently weep with sudden understanding, her tears soaking into the pillow. "I don't know what's more terrifying," she whispered. "Seeing you shot or realizing how much I love you." She righted her head and looked closely at his face. In that brief moment after the words 'I love you' came out of her mouth, did she see the corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly? "John?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"

"It's just a little too soon, I think," said a voice from behind her she didn't recognize.

Sitting up, Leah wiped her face and turned, and when she saw Melanie McIntyre standing inside the curtain surrounding Trapper's bed, she stuttered. "I'm…sorry…Mrs. McIntyre. Did the hospital call you?"

Taking a deep breath, Melanie said, "No. I saw it on the news. I think he's changed his emergency contact information. "They said you were injured, too. Are you all right?"

Leah was surprised at the constant smile Melanie wore. "I'm fine. It seems the sniper got two for one," she answered, carefully patting the bandage around her arm. "Has anyone told you anything?"

"Not yet. The reporter said that he was in surgery, and I think I can assume it was successful," she said, pointing to Trapper lying on the bed.

Leah uncomfortably crossed her arms. "The bullet went all the way through and got me in the arm. Dr. Gates said it nicked one of his arteries." Leah stifled the need to cry. "It missed his heart by only an eighth of an inch." She noticed the smile disappear as Melanie moved her hand to cover her mouth. It seemed this woman still had feelings for her ex-husband.

"Oh my," said Melanie. "That was too close, wasn't it?" Nodding, Leah looked back at Trapper for a moment to gather her wits about her. "You've had a long day," said Melanie, her smile back in place. "Why don't you let me buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Thank you, but I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up."

"Oh, he won't be. They'll baby him here like he's the most important person in this hospital." Leah gave her a hesitant look. "They're going to run you out of here as soon as he's awake to get him ready to move to a room. Trust me."

Taking one more long look at Trapper, Leah finally nodded agreement and followed Melanie out of recovery and to the elevator. "The cafeteria coffee is much better than this vending machine stuff," said Melanie as she led the way into the cafeteria. Both women went to the coffee makers and prepared their cups, and once paid for, they opted for an outside table.

"Mrs. McIntyre…"

"Please call me Melanie."

Leah smiled, though uneasily. "How much did you hear back in the recovery room?"

"What I heard doesn't matter. What I see tells the entire story. I knew Trapper was taken with you that first time I met you. I can see now the feeling is mutual."

"I wasn't really sure until now." Sitting back in her chair, Leah reverted to her outspoken self. "To tell you the truth, after both times I've met you now, I feel like the other woman. You still love him."

Melanie crossed her legs and sat back with her coffee cup in her hand. Pushing her bottom lip up, she nodded. "I'll always love him. We had two beautiful children together, and he and I had some very good times. But there's a big difference between you and me. You have an established career, and Trapper is proud of you…of what you do. My career was my children, and once they were gone, I needed to…I don't know…find myself as they say. The good times were good, but the bad ones were…infuriating. He can be impossible sometimes. Then again, I suppose I can, too."

Leah laughed remembering how she and Trapper met. Infuriating was a very accurate description.

"I suppose my biggest frustration…the one that pushed us over the edge…was the demands of his job." Leaning forward, Melanie pointed to herself. "I felt like _I_ was the other woman, only there wasn't another woman!" She smiled, leaning back again, relaxing at the smile Leah was now wearing. "I think what works for you and Trapper is that you've been on equal footing from the beginning. He has his demanding job, and you have yours. On top of that, your jobs are here at the same place."

"That won't always be true necessarily. I have a contract to install the new computer system. After that, I move on and turn it over to a new staff CIO."

"He hasn't asked you to stay?"

"Uh…no. I'm not sure he would."

Melanie opened her mouth and nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'd better get going. I came over on a late lunch break. Would you tell him I'll come by to see him tomorrow?"

"Of course."

Taking the last sip of her coffee, Melanie rose to leave. "Ciao."

Leah smiled as Melanie walked away, but her smile slowly faded. _What would I say if he asked me to stay?_ She stood to go back into the hospital and quickly remembered how much she ached, so instead of going back to recovery, she found a soft chair in the surgical waiting room and dropped into it, propping her elbows on her legs and bowing her head into her hands.

It wasn't long before Gonzo came in looking for her. "Are you all right?" he asked, standing in front of her and looking down.

At first, she laughed, but her laugh slowly turned into a sob as she shot up out of the chair and limped around Gonzo in a circle. "My foot hurts, and I can't even shift it in his cast, my arm feels like it's having its own mini-fireworks show, my chest hurts, and on top of all that, Trapper could have died. Despite all the security precautions, they shot him."

Gonzo had never seen Leah lose it…had never suspected that she would ever lose it, but in this case it appeared there was much more at stake…the heart that had closed so completely upon the death of her family had opened and been faced with the possibility of the same kind of pain. He took her by her arms and pulled her into him, letting her cry on his shoulder. "He's fine, Leah. He's awake, and we're getting ready to move him to a room. But before you see him, I want to take a look at you. You said your chest hurts. Did something happen up on the helipad that made your chest hurt?"

"Trapper fell on me and knocked the breath out of me. I'm probably just bruised."

"I want to take a look to be sure that's all it is. I need to take a look at your arm, and I want to do some blood work again."

Taking a deep breath, Leah argued. "You just did blood work and gave me a dose of antibiotics a couple of days ago."

He turned her toward the elevator and put his arm over her shoulders. "That was all before you got shot and had Trapper land on you. You know your condition puts you at greater risk as well as I do, so stop arguing and listen to your doctor."

"Can I just see him before you start poking holes in me?"

"I'll do one better than that," said Gonzo, winking and smiling. He walked her to the nurse's desk on the fourth floor where Gloria was working and Ernie was completing Trapper's chart. "Is he settled yet?"

"He's resting comfortably, but I don't understand why you ordered a semi-private room," said Gloria.

Gonzo smiled. "Let's just say it's for a little mental and emotional health care. Gloria, would you admit Leah? We're going to be keeping her overnight for some tests. You can put her in the other bed in room 408."

Looking up from her paperwork, Ernie said sternly. "You know that's against hospital rules."

"Nothing will come of it if the patients don't complain. Besides, Trapper isn't going to feel like doing much of anything for the next few days, and by that time, Leah won't be a patient, and you can move him to private room."

"Gonzo, you don't have to break the rules for me," said Leah, bowing her head tiredly.

Gonzo snorted. "And just where will you be when I'm through poking holes in you?"

"Well…" She sighed and nodded.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter Sixty-Four **

Trapper slept the entire time the phlebotomist was in the room taking Leah's blood. He slept through Gonzo's admonishment to her for sitting without propping her foot up. He even slept while she changed into the pajamas and robe she kept in her office out of habit now and through the noise of moving a chair next to his bed close enough to lay her foot on the bottom corner of the mattress.

All the while, she watched him, waiting for him to open his eyes. Through all that diligence, he saw her first and watched until she raised her head from its bowed position in her hand. Smiling, she took a deep breath of relief and slowly let it out.

"That bad?" Trapper asked rather hoarsely.

"Mm hm," she answered, nodding slowly. "You gave me a good fright."

"I'll try to do better next time."

"The only way you can do better is by not getting shot trying to protect me." She winced as soon as the words were out of her mouth, knowing they might incite him to be defensive. "But thank you. You probably saved my life…again."

He chuckled and groaned, moving his arms over his chest, his answer of "anytime" coming out in a wheeze.

"Laughing is not on the list of today's activities." Moving to the side of the bed, Leah sat down and leaned over him, cradling his head in her hands and kissing his forehead before she laid her forehead on his and closed her eyes, trying to hold back more tears.

His left side was sore because of the surgery, so his hand remained idle on the bed, but his right hand moved up her back to the nape of her neck where he squeezed before he kissed those tears away. "That was a lot to go through just to get you to say it."

She raised just enough to look into his eyes. "Say what?"

"What you said to me in recovery."

"You were unconscious. You couldn't have heard anything."

Smiling, he said, "You called me 'John.'"

Sitting up, Leah sucked in a breath and looked away. "So I guess it's time for you to run for the hills."

He moved his hand to her thigh and grasped firmly. "Not gonna happen."

When she looked up toward the ceiling, he tugged on her arm, though he wasn't strong enough to pull her toward him. Even so, he didn't stop tugging until she was leaning over him again. "What happened to your arm?"

"We shared the bullet," she said softly.

Closing his eyes, he said in a weary voice, "I thought I was thick enough to stop it."

"It evidently came from a high-powered sniper rifle. But I'm fine. Gonzo's keeping me here for observation tonight, so…" she pointed to the other bed, "we're roomies." Brushing the back of her fingers down the side of his beard before she gently kissed his lips, she finished, "You're tired."

"But we have a lot to talk about."

She moved closer to his ear and whispered, "Later. Rest for awhile." She sat holding his hand until he drifted off to sleep, and then quietly slipped off the bed and wandered into the hall. No one was at the nurse's station, but when she looked down the hall, it appeared the waiting room was bursting with white coats and uniforms.

"Excuse me," Leah said as she pushed through the crowd watching the television. Standing with Gonzo on one side and Ernie on the other, they listened intently to the breaking news story. It started with federal officers bringing suited men out of the front doors of Xanda National Laboratories handcuffed and leading them to waiting vans.

"As you can see behind me," said the news reporter, "a raid has taken place at Xanda National Laboratories here in Livermore. At this time, no charges have been revealed, however, a reliable source tells us that upon what was called a surprise inspection, it was discovered that reactor-grade plutonium scheduled for storage in an undisclosed location has disappeared, possibly heading overseas toward a Middle Eastern country. Our look at Xanda began earlier this week when two Xanda scientists were discovered in a trash compactor in San Francisco literally crushed." The picture changed to that of the two scientists being rolled into the hospital. "It had been reported that both scientists died, but since then, we've received information that one of the two scientists is alive and recuperating thanks to a team of surgeons at San Francisco Memorial Hospital lead by Chief of Surgery John McIntyre." A posed picture of Trapper appeared on the screen.

"Where'd they get that?" asked Jackpot.

Ernie snorted. "Probably from Arnold. He'll do anything to promote the hospital."

"We have also learned that Dr. McIntyre and a woman who also works at the hospital were shot by snipers during an Army maneuver involving moving a patient to a helicopter on the roof the hospital. We have not yet confirmed the patient was Ms. Ellen Frank, one of the two scientists who might have been trying to inform the government of the missing plutonium. Dr. McIntyre and the woman who was shot are recuperating at the hospital. We'll stay on top of this story, and let you know the facts as soon as they are available."

The newscast returned to the reporter in the studio who added before moving on to the next news story, "Even though the missing plutonium was reactor-grade, it's still powerful and deadly enough to be used in nuclear weapons."

Everyone started to leave the waiting room, but Ernie and Gonzo stopped and looked at Leah who was absently staring at the television screen. "Leah, is something wrong?" asked Ernie.

"Huh," she said, turning. "Oh…no. I was just thinking about the break-in in the basement. All the men Agent Allen took into custody looked Middle Eastern."

"Well, it's over," said Gonzo. "And you should be resting." He moved his arm around her and walked with her to her room. "The beds here are actually pretty comfortable. And besides, your dinner is coming down the hallway now," he said, pointing to the food cart.

"I can't eat in front of Trapper if he's not eating."

"He's having a light dinner, so you two can eat at the same time and talk over old times," Gonzo said with an impish grin. "Actually, what you can talk about is how the two of you are going to relax while you recover. I'm prescribing no stress and no excitement for at least two weeks. Probably longer for him."

The head of Trapper's bed had been raised enough that he could eat on his own by the time Leah got back to the room. Trays were already occupying both over bed tables. Taking the chart hanging on the end of Trapper's bed, Gonzo read through it.

"Anything interesting?" asked Trapper.

"Not much. Just the normal stuff for a gunshot victim."

Trapper chuckled sourly. "Two and a half years in a war and I was never wounded."

Nodding, Gonzo said, "I'm heading over to the Titanic. You two eat your dinner and get some rest. Doctor's orders."

Leah moved her over bed tray beside Trapper's bed and sat in the chair as the two ate dinner together while watching a national news program. The host was briefly discussing the headlines of the day which included the raid at Xanda Laboratories.

Trapper ate only a little of his dinner before he pushed the table away and lay back, periodically closing his eyes. "Your suspicions were right from the beginning, kiddo. What made you jump on the nuclear material?"

"Allen mentioned nuclear material, so I made an assumption. I had just read an article in _Scientific American _that covered the range of nuclear utilization from radioisotopes in medicine to nuclear warheads and everything in between. It posed the question of reusing nuclear waste destined for storage in underground bunkers; if reactor-grade waste material could still be effective for use as weapons, why not other applications?"

"You read _Scientific American_?"

"Well, you read all the medical journals, don't you? I am a scientist." Trapper raised an eyebrow. "My curriculum was called computer _science_, I studied in the mathematics and _science_ department, and I do have Bachelor of _Science_ degree."

"I'm not arguing."

"Your eyebrow is," she said, giggling.

"We need to talk."

Leah moved from the chair to the bed and held Trapper's hand. "We don't need to talk right now. How about tomorrow?"

"You're putting this off."

"No, I'm deferring to your condition. I'd rather talk when you're not hopped up on pain killers. You tend to drift in and out. Gonzo said he was going to have you up for a walk tomorrow, so he's expecting you to make a quick recovery. Oh, and before I forget, Melanie was here earlier. She said she'd stop by tomorrow."

"Melanie?"

"Yes, your ex-wife. You do remember her, don't you?"

Trapper smirked with his eyes closed. "Are you telling me you spoke to Melanie?"

"Yes. We had coffee together."

"Oh. Maybe I _should_ wait until tomorrow to talk."

"Don't worry. It was actually a nice visit."

After a long silence, Trapper said. "All right. We'll talk tomorrow. You just make sure you're here and nothing else comes up. We're not putting this off again."

Leaning over him, Leah kissed his nose and looked into his sleepy eyes. "John, I'm not going anywhere."

They kissed, and then Leah adjusted the head of his bed and pillow before she turned his light off and watched him drop off to sleep. She left the over bed tables and chair where they were, crawled into her own bed and turned off the light.


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter Sixty-Five**

Leah squinted at the bright light coming through the windows as Gloria opened the curtains. The greeting of "Good morning, Sunshine" from the other side of the room prompted her to groan and pull her pillow over her head.

"I need my own bed. I tossed and turned all night."

Taking the pillow from her and touching her shoulder, signaling her to sit up, Gloria moved the pillow back behind her head and fluffed it. "You should have called the nurse on duty last night. She could have adjusted the bed to a comfortable position for you."

"I can't really blame the bed," said Leah, slowly sitting up and moving her feet over the side. "My foot and arm both throbbed all night."

Gloria smiled. "She could also have given you something for pain or to help you sleep."

"And I'd wind up feeling just like I do now," responded Leah, smiling back and sliding off the bed. "No thanks. I'll be right back. Morning routine and all," she said, pointing to the bathroom.

"Excuse me," said a man standing in the doorway. "Is this Leah Haverty's room?"

Gloria had moved over to Trapper's bed and was assisting him in sitting upright. "Yes, it is. She just went to the bathroom. She'll be out in just a minute."

The man went to the other side of the room and set a vase of roses on her over bed table under Trapper's close scrutiny. The man was well-dressed in a three piece suit, probably close to Trapper's age; maybe a little older. He turned around just as Leah was coming out of the bathroom.

"Albert! What a pleasant surprise," said Leah, rushing over and tiptoeing to give him a hug. "You look tired. Did you drive up?"

"I heard about the shooting on the news last night. I knew it was your hospital, but they didn't mention your name, so I called and was told it _was_ you. It was too late to get a quick flight, so yes, I drove."

"Well, as you can see, I'm fine." Gloria had quietly left the room, but Trapper was sitting in silence, listening in. "Albert Shaefer, I'd like you to meet Dr. John McIntyre, Chief of Surgery and bullet stopper extraordinaire. Trapper, Albert is my attorney. He was one of John's lifelong friends." The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

"Leah, I have some information for you regarding our last conversation. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss it?"

Smiling and glancing over at Trapper, she answered, "We can discuss it here. Trapper was the personal reference in our talk over the phone. He knows everything."

"I see," said Albert, peering over his glasses at Trapper. "Is that why the hospital has a man and woman in the same room?" He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and looking down at the file in his hands, exhaled heavily. "I hesitate to give this to you. I know how much it will hurt."

Leah looked warily at him as she watched him flip the pages in the folder before he closed it and held it forward. Still watching his eyes, she took the folder, and when the paper touched her fingers, she felt a foreboding chill. Inside the folder were dates, places, pictures and one name common to everything…Mark Hansen. Her color drained as she shrank into the chair.

Trapper tried to move closer, but he sucked in a quick breath, and then cursed, moving a hand over his incision. "Leah," he said compellingly.

Rising from the chair, she dropped the folder on Trapper's bed and walked to the window, looking out.

"What are you going to do?" asked Albert.

"I don't know yet. Will you be in town very long?"

"I plan to be here several days, but if you need me longer, just let me know."

She turned her head and smiled. "I will. Thank you for bringing that by, but why don't you get some rest now. I'll call this afternoon."

Walking to her, Albert kissed her forehead, whispered something in her ear, gave her a reassuring smile and made his way to the door. I'm staying at the Fairmont. Dr. McIntyre, it was nice to finally meet you. Perhaps we can all get together for dinner while I'm here."

Trapper nodded. "Mr. Shaefer."

Waiting for the door to close, Leah opened the closet and took her clothes out, laying them on the bed before she began to undress.

"What are you doing?"

She took a deep breath and looked the other way.

"You haven't been released. We don't know the results of your blood tests yet." She turned and without so much as a look, pulled the curtain around her side of the room. Flaring his nostrils, he hit his call button.

"Yes, Dr. McIntyre?"

"Get Dr. Gates in here. Now."

Gonzo appeared in a matter of seconds and worriedly looked at Trapper. "What's wrong?"

Jerking his thumb toward the other bed, Trapper barked, "She thinks she's leaving."

"Tattletale!"

Stifling a smile, Gonzo walked around the curtain. "Is he right?"

"Something's come up that I need to take care of."

"The only thing you need to take care of is your health," said Gonzo as he picked her blouse up off the bed and hung it back in the closet, leaving her standing there in her slacks and bra.

She snatched up her robe, slipped it on and tied it, but as she pulled the curtain back, Gonzo caught her good arm. "Is this problem jeopardizing your work here in any way?"

Rolling her eyes, she answered tensely, "No."

"Is it going to get worse if you wait to take care of it?"

"Probably not," she said, twisting her mouth.

"Could a better outcome result if you gave it more thought?"

She slumped and half-heartedly jerked back toward her bed, sending Trapper into a fit of laughter that quickly turned into groans.

Plopping down on the side of the bed, she gave him a sarcastic scowl. "That's what you get for laughing at my predicament."

"I'm sorry," he said out of breath. "But you've just been handled."

"Anyone who can handle Leah Haverty is to be congratulated."

All three looked toward the door where another man in a three-piece suit was standing. Leah's lower jaw dropped, but she quickly collected herself. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet your boss?"

Leah shook her head as she looked incredulously around the room. "I don't believe this. Everyone is coming out of the woodwork."

Trapper and Gonzo looked at each other, brows raised and tongues in their cheeks at the realization that this was _the_ Doug Manning from New York, Leah's director.

Stepping forward with his hand extended, Gonzo said, "I'm Dr. Gates, Leah's doctor. If you'll excuse us for just a minute, I need to get her back into bed."

Once Gonzo had the curtain drawn, Doug and Trapper awkwardly smiled and nodded at each other. "So, you're Leah's boss. I spoke to you a little while ago when she resigned and left."

"I'm sorry. You have me at a disadvantage."

"I'm John McIntyre, the Chief of Surgery here."

"Oh yes, you were shot. And you're her new distraction."

Trapper cleared his throat at that remark. "You've come all the way from New York. It must be something important."

"Leah's next assignment. The only thing left to do here is finish up loose ends, and Mark is perfectly capable of doing that."

"May I ask what her next assignment will be?" Manning reached down to the file lying on Trapper's bed, but Trapper quickly snatched it away. "Sorry. Patient files."

A wide, perfect smile appeared on Doug's face. "I understand. In the same context, I'm afraid I can't discuss Leah's work. If she wants to tell you, that's her prerogative."

Matching Doug's smile, Trapper said, "Of course."

Stalemate… for the moment.


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter Sixty-Six**

Before pulling the curtain back, Gonzo turned to answer Leah's question. "I'll release you once I see the results of your blood work _and_ it's all normal." Trapper and Doug both looked at Leah who was sitting in her bed with the head up, her pillow fluffed behind her, and her blanket pulled up over her lap. "Don't be too long, Mr. Manning. She hasn't had breakfast yet."

"Yes well," he said, taking a seat in the chair on the other side of Leah's bed. "I just want to discuss your next assignment with you and get you started. It seems your friends in the federal government were impressed with your work here during the latest crisis. With that and your government clearance, they think you're perfect for this job."

"Which is?"

Doug looked over at Trapper before leaning closer to Leah. "They'd like you to head the team going into Xanda Laboratories. Your first order of business will be to reconstruct the data they tried to destroy. After that's done, you'll be charged with getting those systems cleaned up, upgraded, documented and running. The government is taking over the lab for the time being." Doug looked over at Trapper again, who was listening quietly. Clearing his throat, he said, "We should be discussing this privately."

Leah glanced over at Trapper and smiled. "Oh, I don't think so, Doug. I have nothing to hide from Dr. McIntyre and would ask his opinion anyway. When would I leave?"

"As soon as your doctor releases you from this hospital."

"And what about my medical condition?"

"You can have your medical records sent to the hospital of your choice in Livermore. I'm sure Dr. McIntyre in his capacity as Chief of Surgery can recommend someone and has the connections to get you situated there."

"And where, exactly, would I live? I would need some time to find a place."

"Not in the short term. There is housing on the Xanda campus, and suites are available that were provided to visiting dignitaries. You can have one of those." Doug leaned back and crossed his legs. "Leah, the government wants you. They have no one else on their list of candidates for this job."

Shifting her eyes toward Trapper again, she saw the crease of his brow and the almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"After everything that's happened in the last day or so, I need some time to clear my head and think. I'm not going anywhere today, anyway. Can I give you an answer tomorrow?"

"An answer? Leah, you don't understand. This is your next assignment…unless you're thinking about resigning again," he added, looking skeptically at her.

She smiled. "I just need to get my head on straight again. This experience has been…off putting."

He nodded curtly, but smiled and stood. "I understand. If you get out today, I'm at the Mark Hopkins. Otherwise, I'll come back by tomorrow. Dr. McIntyre…a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," said Trapper, smiling cheekily as Manning left the room. Watching Leah bow her head and push her hair back over as she blew out her cheeks, he said, "Come over here," nodding his head to his side of the room. "It's time to talk."

She looked back at him and grimaced before she threw the blanket off and slid out of the bed, stopping short of sitting on the side of Trapper's bed.

He smiled at her wary expression. "Why don't you want to talk about this?"

"It depends on what you mean by _this. _If you're talking about what I said while you were in recovery, the events of this morning have made that a little more complicated, haven't they?

Reaching for her hand, he answered, "No, not really. What gave you that idea?" He tugged on the sleeve of her pajama top until she was sitting on the bed right next to him. "There, you see. Gonzo can't yell at you for not propping your foot up."

"No. He'll yell at me for crowding you."

"You're not crowding me," he snorted as he moved his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side. With a playful smirk, he said, "Now, tell me what's going through that scientific head of yours."

She shifted away, and then leaned back over him. "We both know how _I_ feel." Sitting back up, she turned her back to him. "This job…it's for the government, and it's cutting edge stuff. Career-wise, I'd be a fool to walk away from a chance like this. But then I think about Mark betraying me and Doug riding herd over me, and…"

"And? Isn't that enough?" asked Trapper with furrowed brows.

"It would be helpful to know…for sure…if there was a reason to stay." She ran her fingers into the front of her hair, pushing it back again. She didn't expect his hand to move around her neck, gently pulling her back to him, or his other hand cupping her face and forcing her to look into his eyes; eyes that showed anger…maybe disappointment.

Trapper looked long and hard into her baby-blues, chagrined at first because she should know how he felt by now, but he softened at the fear he saw and understood she was perched on a narrow ledge when it came to allowing herself to give in to that kind of love again. Moving closer so that they were almost nose to nose, he said softly, "I want you to stay…here…with me."

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against his. "Doug could make it difficult for me to find another job. He has connections all over the world."

"You can still take the job he offered if you want. Livermore isn't that far away. I just don't know why you'd want to knowing that Mark has been spying on you so Doug can manipulate you. You need to get away from those two."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Trapper, I need my work. I'll go crazy without it."

Wrapping his arms loosely around her, he pondered. "I have an idea. And all you have to do is go for a walk with me after breakfast."

She sat up, her curiosity piqued. "Where?"

Raising his eyebrows, he answered, "Patience…"

Gonzo and Leah both helped Trapper get slowly to his feet. "How do you feel?" asked Gonzo.

Pursing his lips, Trapper said, "Get out of my way, and I'll show you."

Gonzo and Leah let go, but Trapper grabbed her hand and draped it over his arm. "Not you. You're with me."

"Leah, don't let him go too far. He thinks he's still forty."

"Thirty," Trapper shot back.

"Well, that won't work," said Leah. "I don't see younger men."

"All right, forty then," said Trapper as he shuffled out the door. Looking back over his shoulder, he waited for Gonzo to disappear down the hall. "Now take me to the elevator."

"My instructions were to walk you up this hall and back," she said pointing the way. "No further."

"It's not like I'm walking any further," he said, looking sideways at her. "It'll just be on a different floor."

When the elevator door opened on the executive floor, Leah hesitated to leave. "Why are we up here?"

"I need to talk to Arnold," he said, heading out the door without her.

Trailing behind him, she looked around her as she whispered loudly, "We do have a phone in our room."

"In private…where prying ears can't hear." He stuck his head in the opening of Arnold's door. "Arnold, you got a minute?"

Arnold sprung out of his chair and rushed over, taking Trapper by the arm and guiding him to a chair. "What in the world are you doing? You should be in bed."

"Nope. I'm on my daily walk."

Leah slid inside the door and waited until Arnold turned and noticed her. "And you, too. You're both supposed to be recuperating."

"Arnold, sit down and listen to me," Trapper ordered. "Have you had any success in finding your new CIO?"

"I've done several interviews, but no," he answered, slowly dropping into his chair on the other side of the desk. "Leah advised we find someone with a strong recent technical background…that it would save us some money."

Leaning forward, Trapper asked, "Why didn't you interview Leah?"

"She didn't apply."

Stepping closer Leah stuttered, "Uh, Trapper. CIO? I'm technical. I don't do office politics."

"Nonsense," he said over his shoulder, but continued looking at Arnold. "You do politics quite well. And you have a proven track record. And you already know our system. She's perfect for the job."

Arnold smiled. "You're right. She is." His smile was instantly gone. "But she's not available. I spoke with Doug Manning a little while ago. He has plans for her."

Trapper winked. "Actually, Arnold, I have plans for him." The three put their heads together in a discussion that produced an occasional gasp, 'you're kidding', 'he did that?' and as they went along, more frequent sharp nods and chuckles.

When their lunch arrived in their rooms, Leah was sitting in her bed, staring at the far wall. The nurse placed her lunch tray on her over bed table, and she muttered, "Thank you," without even looking at her.

Trapper studied her as he lifted the cover from his plate and set it aside. "What part of this are you having trouble with?" he asked as he cut into his chicken.

"The spectacle it could become. I don't need to embarrass them in front of a crowd."

"You don't have to. If they do what they should, no one but them, you, Arnie, and me will know. Oh, and Albert."

"Albert. I need to call Albert," she said, reaching for the phone. After her conversation with Albert telling him of their plan, she continued her stare at the far wall. "Why can't we just tell them?"

"By doing it this way, Doug will have no time to react, and Albert will be there when Doug starts shooting off ways he can prevent you from accepting the position here."

"I'll give Albert a copy of my contract when he gets here."

"What else?" asked Trapper, drawing his lips into a tight line and raising his brows.

"Chief Information Officer, Trapper. I don't want to be a member of the hospital board."

"If you don't like it, you can always resign," Trapper said, shrugging. "But this will keep you working until you find something else, and it will give Arnold time to find someone else who's right for the job…with your help."

"I'll never find an opportunity like the Xanda job again," she mumbled. Trapper stopped eating and exhaled. "But you're right. I have to get away from Doug and Mark. Trapper, I don't want to talk to Mark at the party, but I don't want to see a confrontation between you two either."

He smiled sympathetically. He wanted her away from Doug and Mark. Even so, he hoped he hadn't pushed her into something she wouldn't be happy with. Turning to her, he winked. "I'll be on my best behavior."


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter Sixty-Seven**

The party in the executive conference room had already started by the time Trapper and Leah arrived. With everyone stepping out of their way, Leah led Trapper to the seats that were waiting for them, and as soon as they were comfortable with full glasses of champagne in their hands, Arnold's speech began.

During his announcement of the successful implementation of the new computer system, Leah quietly answered Albert's questions about her contract with Manning Consulting while he held a folder containing the contract and a folder with the information about Mark's spy activities snugly against him.

Leah and her team were introduced to the board members as well as the staff who were invited to attend. Afterward, a few words were said about Trapper and Leah's roles in the efforts to save Ms. Frank.

Just before Arnold finished that part of his announcements, Leah slipped a letter into Doug's hands signaling Albert to take up a position beside him.

"What's this?"

"My resignation."

Doug laughed. "This is hardly the time for jokes."

She smiled and wrinkled her nose.

"And the last benefit of all this I'd like to announce," began Arnold," is that a candidate for our new position of Chief Information Officer has been approved by the board. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our new CIO, Ms. Leah Haverty Lewis."

Doug was a tall man, and when the announcement was finished, it seemed as if he grew a foot. In the midst of the shouts of congratulations and well wishes, he very calmly edged up to Leah and said quietly, "If you enjoy your career as much as you say, you should reconsider. I'm sure there are clauses in your contract that prohibit you from working for a company where you recently contracted. And I can make sure no one else will hire you. You really don't have a choice."

"Oh, Doug. Don't you remember? We didn't put a non-compete clause in my contract. And as far as a job…" her sweet smile suddenly left her face. "I have one," she finished acerbically. "I'm not a cow, and it's time for you to stop herding me."

"Leah, I will come after you with one of the best legal teams in the country."

Clearing his throat, Albert bumped into Doug's side, casually flipping through the contents of the folder he had presented to Leah just the day before. "Mr. Manning, were you aware there are laws against employers surveilling their employees outside the workplace? Laws with some very stiff fines and jail sentences?" Doug fumed when he glanced down at the file.

Walking up to Doug on the opposite side of Albert, Arnold said, "One more thing, Mr. Manning. The board has decided not to add the optional turnover you offered in our contract. Your people will be replaced through the end of the month, and will be dismissed as their positions are filled with permanent hospital employees."

Looking from Albert to Arnold to Trapper who was now standing behind Leah, Doug straightened his tie. "Leah, you'll be hearing from my attorneys." He turned and left rather quickly.

Leah covered the hand that reassuringly squeezed her shoulder. "Why don't we get you back to a chair, Trapper? I don't think Gonzo wants you doing so much so soon." Arnold took one arm and Leah the other as they maneuvered Trapper through the crowd to a chair. "Sit tight. I'll get you a cup of punch," said Leah.

Trapper only smiled and nodded. He didn't want to tell her just how badly he hurt.

As Leah poured punch for both of them, a hand closed around her arm at the same time someone stepped into her back. "Leah, I need to talk to you."

Before she could react, Trapper was there lifting the thumb of the hand holding her arm and bending it backward until the hand released her. Stepping in front of Leah, Trapper quietly said, "Mark, walk away."

"I just wanted to…" Mark stopped when he saw Trapper looking menacingly at him from beneath his brows. Clenching his teeth, Mark bowed his head, took a deep breath, and spun around, leaving the room.

Trapper had been standing rigid, but as soon as Mark was gone, he slumped, moving his hand to his side. Leah stepped underneath his arm, and seeing blood on his shirt, called for Gonzo who was on the other side of the room.

"Didn't I tell you to take it easy," scolded Gonzo as he took Trapper's weight from Leah and led him to a chair. "Arnold, would you call for a wheelchair? I need to get him back downstairs and take a look at his sutures."

Leah waited at the nurse's station with Ernie and Gloria while Gonzo checked Trapper's sutures. Gonzo hadn't officially released her, but she was dressed in her street clothes, expecting to be set free, even though, at the moment, she didn't want to be let go. Having to stay herself was a good excuse to stay with Trapper.

Moving an arm across her back, Ernie said, "It wasn't that much blood. I'm sure Gonzo can repair it easily enough in his room without having to go back to surgery." Offering a smile, she got a small one back in return.

"She's right," said Gonzo as he approached the counter. "The sutures didn't break, but the incision started bleeding again. "I've put some fresh bandages on it, and if he stays still it shouldn't bleed. Leah, he'd like you to stay at the hospital."

"Are you releasing me?"

"Officially, yes. But Trapper thinks you should stay, and I can justify it if I have to. Your white blood count is a little higher than I'd like it to be, but it's still within a normal range."

"What does that mean?" she asked worriedly.

"It means that your immune system is doing its job." Moving a hand to her shoulder, he added as he looked into her eyes, "Really, it's fine. Trapper's worried, that's all, and I'd rather him not be worried."

"Well, if you say I'm fine, why would he worry?"

Exhaling and moving his hands to his hips, Gonzo bowed his head before he looked back up and answered, "He's worried about Mark. He's been following you all this time without approaching you, but based on recent events, Trapper's concerned he might step things up…that he might confront you…maybe try to do you some harm."

Dropping her forehead into her hands, she groaned. "This isn't happening." After tapping her foot for a moment and stewing, she asked, "Is there any reason I can't work. I suddenly have a lot more to do, and I need to get started. "

"Your people are still here. Can't they finish without you?"

"If Mark is stable enough to do it, otherwise they do need some guidance. Besides that, I have to hire a bunch of people before the end of the month…that's just two weeks. I need to see Hector's and Mike's families…and Mike…I haven't even gone to see how Mike is doing. And then I need to send a memo out to all departments with procedures on how to request updates to the system, and how their requests will be evaluated."

"Whoa, slow down," Gonzo said mildly irritated. "Do you remember I prescribed some rest for both of you?"

She slumped and frowned. "I do, Gonzo, but at the very least, I have to get people hired."

"I think I can make that a little easier for you," said Arnold, approaching them with a stack of papers in his hand. "How's Trapper?"

"He'll live," answered Gonzo. At the shocked expression on Arnold's face, he chuckled. "No, Arnold. He's fine."

Arnold shot Gonzo an incensed glance, then turned his attention to Leah. "These are all the applications I've received for the technical positions. I got quite a few of those today. Look at ones on the top," he said, smiling.

Taking the stack of applications and moving them to the counter, Leah began to flip through them. "These are…" A wide grin suddenly took over her face. "These are all my people. They're all applying for their current positions. That means I don't have to do any immediate interviews…except for the project manager position. Oh. Oh my," she said, frowning.

"What is it?" asked Ernie.

"Mark applied for the project manager position. His application is dated today."

"You're not going to consider him, are you?"

"I'll have to give it some thought. Mark already knows the system and the job. It will be hard to find someone who can do better than he can. It says on his cover letter that he resigned from his position at Manning Consulting which means he can't help finish up here, unless I hire him." The silence around the nurse's station was heavy with resignation that this particular problem wasn't just going to walk away. "Well," Leah started with a tentative smile. "I'll just have to think of something, won't I? Gonzo, is Trapper awake? I'd like to see him before I go upstairs to my new office."

Everyone smiled. "He's awake, but he's groggy. I gave him something for pain, so he'll be in and out."

"I won't be long. I just want to let him know I'll be staying at the hospital until we have some time to talk." She headed toward Trapper's room, but turned around and giggled, "CIO. This is going to be fun, I think."

Slowly pushing open the door of Trapper's hospital room, Leah peeked in. He looked peaceful; as if he was sleeping, but she stepped over to the bed anyway, setting her paperwork on his bedside table. Standing completely still, she watched him. She knew it happened all the time, but it was so hard to believe a man as sturdy; as healthy as Trapper could be downed. High-powered rifles had no purpose in her mind, except to kill. She knew how lucky they had been, and wondered if the sniper had been aiming at the helicopter and Trapper stepped in the way, or if they had been aiming at Trapper. Rubbing her temple she shook the thought away and bent over him, gently taking his hand in hers.

A smile spread over Trapper's face before he opened his eyes. "I was afraid you wouldn't come by before you started your new job."

She smiled in relief as his voice, though quiet, was strong without any hint of hoarseness. "And why wouldn't I come by to see the man with whom I am madly in love?"

His smile grew. "Ah, so you can say it out loud now."

"I might as well," she said, leaning in close. "I can't deny it. And I won't be running away this time."

"Good, because I don't think I could come after you for awhile. I just thought you might be inclined to leave me to my rest."

"Well, I did promise Gonzo I wouldn't stay long. But I wanted you to know that I will be staying at the hospital for now. I'll just be up in my office going through some applications and getting people hired. The good news is that all of my people from Manning have applied, and they have no contract to deal with. They'll be easy. The hard part will be to fill the project manager position. I have some ideas, so I'll be on the phone most of the afternoon."

"Has Mark tried to see you?" Stiffening, Leah dropped her eyes. "He has, hasn't he?" As she studied him, deciding whether to tell him or leave it for later, he said, "If you don't tell me, I'm not going to get any rest."

"You devil."

"All's fair in love…" As he had anticipated, his statement not only got a demure smile out of her, but also a slow, deep breath and a blush.

"He applied for the project manager position, and he stated in his cover letter that he had resigned from Manning Consulting. But no, I haven't spoken to him, and I have no plans to do so. I won't be hiring him for any position here."

"That's my girl. Now, get out of here and let me rest before I decide to pull you into this bed with me and bust my sutures."

"Okay. I'm leaving. You just remember, though, it was you who kicked me out." When she bent to kiss him, he moved his hand to the back of her head, digging his fingers into her hair, and making the kiss last just a little longer.


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter Sixty-Eight**

Feeling guilty, Leah stepped onto the elevator and pushed the down button. She held out little hope that it would be as easy as Mark just going away. At least she hadn't lied to Trapper. But if Mark was still down in the basement, she had to know the specifics of his resignation. If it was immediate, he'd have to leave. If it wasn't immediate, she had to dismiss him. Either way, if he was there, she had to escort him out of the hospital.

Trapper was one step ahead of her. The minute she stepped out of his room, he called Arnold and advised him to have security see that Mark was no longer in the building, starting with the basement.

When she entered her old cube, Mark was waiting. She halted abruptly, took a deep breath and continued to the desk. Sitting down, leaning forward and clasping her hands in front of her, she said, "Mark, as I understand it, you have tendered a letter of resignation to Manning Consulting."

"Yes, I did."

"And how much notice did you give?"

"None. I quit. But you have my application. There's really no need to go through an interview."

"I'm not hiring you," she said coldly.

Shooting up out of his chair, he shouted, "Why the hell not?"

"Because," she said gazing indifferently at him, "My attorney hired a detective to find out who was passing private information about me to Doug Manning. They followed me, and while they were following me, guess who else they found following me."

"I didn't follow you. That's ridiculous."

"Then would you like to explain why you were in every surveillance photo they took?"

Arnold stepped into Leah's cube with a security officer. "Mr. Hansen, you need to come with us."

Straightening his tie and adjusting his jacket, he said without taking his eyes off Leah, "Ms. Haverty and I aren't finished."

She smiled. "Yes, we are."

Turning to the security officer, Arnold said, "Escort him out of the building. He is not to enter these premises again."

The officer moved behind Mark, who stood glaring at Leah. "You haven't seen the last of me."

"Mark, if you come near me again, I'll get a restraining order," she said calmly. "Now leave."

The security officer put a hand on his shoulder which he shrugged off before he stomped out of the cube.

"Are you all right?" asked Arnold, looking worriedly at Leah.

"Mr. Slocum," she began as the corner of her mouth turned up in a half smile. "I'm better that I've been in a long while. I just need to collect some manuals and some personal items, and this cubicle will be ready for a new project manager. And I'm going to go ahead with the hiring process for David Stern, one of the programmers. I'd like to use him as a temporary project manager until I find a permanent one, but I need to discuss salaries with you."

"Why don't we go up to my office and do that now? I don't want to delay the turnover any more than we have to."

After spending the better part of her afternoon wrangling money out of Arnold for higher salaries for her people, arguing that she considered all of them senior programmers with years of experience, Leah finally got Arnold to agree on her technical salary bands. She had to assure him that less experienced programmers would be sought as she had to add more staff for the growing hospital and computer system.

Her next order of business was to call a woman she had known at Purdue, one whom she had worked with on occasion and one who was as fierce as she when it came to her system and her standard of work. This was a woman who had also competed for some of the jobs that Leah had managed to win. She knew Frieda Christopher would be after the CIO job from her first day. Even so, Leah called her and asked her to interview for the project manager position, knowing that the job would be done accurately and efficiently. A little job competition didn't scare her. Rather she looked forward to it as it kept her from getting lazy.

She wandered tiredly into her hospital room, but stopped at the door, surprised that Trapper was sitting up in bed with patient charts and folders strewn over his over bed table, his glasses on and his nose buried in one of the charts. He jotted something down on a notepad before he looked up and smiled. "You look tired."

"You look better; a lot better," she said, returning a weary smile as she walked to her bed and set her paperwork down. "I am tired. I really didn't do that much today, but I feel worn out."

"You should let Gonzo check you out. With that foot and now your arm, you could be inviting problems if you don't keep your strength up."

She grunted before she asked, "What are you doing?"

"Hm? Oh, just catching up. I review the charts for all the surgical patients, and I've gotten behind."

"Well, I'm not quite finished. I have to go home and pick up some clothes, and I'm going by your place to get some of your clothes, too. There isn't much left in your office closet. I'll drop the dirty stuff off at the cleaners. Can I get anything else for you while I'm there?"

Trapper looked over the top of his glasses at her. "I don't know if I like the idea of you going out alone."

Stroking her forehead with her fingers, she responded testily, "Trapper, I can't live like that…afraid to go out or do anything. All I want is for things to get back to normal, and the best way to do that…is to just do it," she said, gesturing with her hands waving out beside her.

"If I could, I'd go with you." She shot him a defiant glance and looked the other way. "Arnold came by this afternoon. He told me Mark had been in your office in the basement, and he said he was angry when he left. What if he's just waiting for you to leave the hospital?" She loosely crossed her arms and refused to look at him. "What are you going to do with a cast on your foot and your arm in a sling? Where is your sling, by the way?"

She sighed and puckered her mouth. "Okay. What if I got someone to go with me? I can't just send someone. They won't be able to get into the pool house without alerting the Murphy's." She paused and thought for a moment. "What if I take your car? I can't drive the Jeep anyway. I can't push the clutch with this cast. I'll let Gonzo use the Jeep until you're released, and then you and I can trade. You drive the Jeep, and I'll drive your car. And for the use of the Jeep, all Gonzo has to do is go with me to get it at the pool house, and then make a stop by your house on the way back. Will that satisfy you?"

Raising his chin, he twisted his mouth into a thoughtful scowl. "For now."

"Is there anything else you need me to get while I'm at your house?"

He still didn't like the possibilities or probabilities that presented themselves with her leaving the hospital so soon after Doug's angry flight and Mark's confrontation. Continuing his displeased gaze and his scowl, he added, "The mail," and left it alone.

"Gonzo, thanks for coming with me. I think Trapper would have risked tearing his incision open again if you didn't."

"Well, I do get the Jeep for a few days in return." He had been keeping a close eye on the rearview mirror, but glanced at her quickly and smiled. "I'd have done it without the bribe."

"I know," she said, grinning. "But this way, the Jeep doesn't just sit until Trapper can drive it, I get a car I can drive with this cast, and Trapper and I will both have some clean clothes for the next few days. When do you think you'll release him?"

"Is this the turn?"

"Yes. Just pull up next to the keypad. The code is 23857."

As Gonzo pulled past the gate into the driveway, he answered, "If he'll stay still, I think he can go home in a few days. But I don't want him by himself." He stopped the car and turned the key, then looked back at her. "Would you…uh?"

She laughed. "He can stay here. That way, he won't have to go up and down those stairs. All we have to do is convince him."

"I don't think that will take much," said Gonzo, chuckling.

When Leah had her garment bag packed, Gonzo took it outside to Trapper's car. Once he had it loaded, he walked back to the gate and peered over, looking up the street, and when he saw what he had hoped he wouldn't, he stepped backward away from the gate and shook his head. Leah followed minutes later with the keys to the Jeep and her mail. "Leah, I'm going to follow you. Try not to lose me, okay? If anything happens, I want you to just stop, wherever you are."

His last words gave her a chill. "What's wrong?"

"I think we've been followed." Watching her tense, he tried to calm her. "Just go slow so I can stay on your bumper. And don't use any side streets. Stay to the main thoroughfares."

Stepping closer, she said, "Let's not go by his house. I can take the clothes I have to the cleaners and have them delivered to the hospital tomorrow. I'll ask Ernie or Gloria to swing by and pick up his mail."

"That's a good idea. If this is Mark, he'd know the house isn't occupied, and this way, we won't lead him there. In fact, I want you to drive straight to the hospital. I'll drop the clothes off at the cleaners."

Trapper was still looking at charts when Gonzo and Leah entered the hospital room with her garment bag, her overnight bag and mail. He watched, taking note of everything they were carrying. "What happened?"

Setting her things down on her bed, she limped over to him and gave him a kiss. "Why would you think anything happened?

He smiled perspicaciously with raised eyebrows. "Aren't you missing a few things?" Leah gave Gonzo an uneasy glance, and then busied herself with unpacking.

Rolling his eyes, Trapper focused his attention on Gonzo, raising his eyebrows again and slightly shaking his head.

After scratching his nose, Gonzo leaned back against a wall. "We were followed."

"By whom?"

"Not sure. But Leah's place is protected, and we didn't want _whoever_ to follow us back to your place. If it was Mark, he'd know your house is empty at the moment. So I'm going to drop your laundry off at the cleaners tonight and have them delivered here tomorrow, and Leah asked Ernie to drive by your house tomorrow morning and pick up your mail."

"Good. This should all settle down in a few days, and I should be going home. Right, doctor?"

Nodding innocently, Gonzo mumbled, "Mm hm."

"Out with it," snapped Trapper.

After hanging her clothes in the closet, Leah turned back to the conversation. "We thought it would be better if you stayed at my place for a little while. That way you won't have to deal with your stairs."

"There are steps at your place."

"Yes, but only to get in, and two to get up to the bed…but nothing like your stairs. And that way, I won't be alone, and you'll feel better," she said, ending with a sweet smile.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," Trapper said, eyeing Leah severely.

A young man in a dress shirt, tie and jeans stepped in. "I'm looking for Leah Haverty."

"I'm Leah Haverty," she answered as she began to step around the bed, but Trapper put an arm across her, blocking her way.

Trapper didn't smile, but rather barked as he looked at the young man with an irritated scowl. "What do you want?"

The man stepped to the side of the bed, and slightly leaning, he passed an envelope to Leah, who took it and looked at the front. "It's blank. Who's this from?"

"You've been served, Ma'am. Have a nice day," said the young man, turning and hurrying out of the room.


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter Sixty-Nine**

"Help me out of his damned bed!" Trapper pushed the over bed table so hard it rolled up against Leah's bed, then threw the blanket off.

"Trapper, listen to me," said Gonzo angrily. "You can't afford to tear those sutures. Leah's a big girl. She can take care of herself."

"Then find me a wheelchair. The way she flew out of here, someone's liable to get hurt, and it will probably be her."

Leah had read the papers, cursed at Doug Manning, and then stormed out of the room without answering the calls from Trapper. She went straight to the elevator and went up to her office, slamming the door. It was probably a good thing Arnold's staff had already left for the day. They might have been shocked by the venom spewing from her mouth. She picked up the phone and dialed, and when it was answered she yelled, "That sorry excuse for a human being is SUING ME!"

"For what?" Albert asked calmly.

"Breach of contract and a demand for the turnover of intellectual property."

"Leah, calm down. You already know he has no basis for a breach of contract suit. He's just trying to incite you into making a mistake. Intellectual property is another entirely different thing."

"Albert, I'm sorry I yelled. I'm just…he's knows he won't win. He's just trying to intimidate me."

With her back to the door of her office, Leah didn't hear it open.

"Looks like he's doing a pretty good job, if you ask me," said Trapper, sitting in his wheelchair with his hands crossed in his lap. "Calm down. No one is going to benefit from you yelling; especially not you."

Overhearing Trapper's voice, Albert added, "He's right. You should listen to him."

She hit the speaker button. "Albert, you're on speakerphone."

"Well, first thing I need to know…is there intellectual property?"

"Yes. I'm sure he thinks I've already started planning the upgrade of the hospital's computer system, but with everything that's happened in the last year, I haven't had time to think about an upgrade. Besides that I'm not just going to come in with the standard upgrade I did under Manning. I've sent memos to all the departments asking for their input which is something I never did with Manning. He's going to argue that I had to have started, I'm sure, because that's what I've always done. The second thing is my encryption program, and he's correct. I created that and used it while I worked for Manning Consulting. But I have no problem telling him what that is. I'm sure it will be recreated in the next year by someone else anyway."

"All right then. I'll come by tomorrow and pick up the papers you were served and read through them just to make sure there's nothing else there. If that's all it is, I'll get us scheduled for a discovery hearing. That should take the wind out of his sails."

"What's a discovery hearing?" asked Trapper.

"Both parties sit with a judge and discuss the merits of the lawsuit. The judge decides if the suit can continue on into a court action. Based on what you're telling me, Leah, I don't see how it can go any further. As far as the upgrade, it's your word against his. He's got no proof there were ever any plans for an upgrade. And if you give him the information for the encryption program at the hearing, that will take care of that claim. Is your program written down?"

"Not anymore. I wrote it while Ms. Frank was here, but once Dr. McIntyre decided to move her, I uninstalled it and destroyed the listings. It's all in my head. Should I write it down?"

"No, don't do that. We may be able to give him a taste of his own medicine with this, and we may get my fees out of him as well."

Chuckling, she said, "I'd love to see that, Albert."

"All right then. I'll see you tomorrow morning in your office."

Hitting the speaker button to end the call, she sat back on the edge of the desk and shamefully looked at her feet.

"Feel better?"

With her lips pinched, she nodded. "Sorry."

"Albert's a good man. He's been taking care of you for a long time."

"Yes, he has. I don't want to become a nuisance to him, though. He's just doing it because he promised John he would."

Rolling his chair in front of her, he took her hands in his. "I don't think so. He seems to care. Now, I'd like you to forget about work and Doug for the evening and push me out to the Titanic. Gonzo's picking up pizza for dinner, and he has one of the best selections of wine around," said Trapper, winking.

As Leah pushed him off the elevator on the main floor and headed for the front doors of the hospital, Trapper asked, "Would you mind if I join you when you meet with Albert tomorrow? I have a question I'd like to ask him."

"Why don't you ask me, and then I'll ask him?"

"Because I don't think you'll ask. But…if you'd rather me not be there…"

She stopped pushing and leaned forward over his shoulder, and with a teasing smile, she said, "Apparently, I haven't made myself absolutely clear," before she planted a long, deep kiss on his mouth.

"Have you ever wondered if…" Trapper whispered in her ear. "…in a wheelchair?"

She threw her head back in laughter. "I do believe you have earned the rank of dirty old man, Dr. McIntyre." Stepping back behind the chair wearing a wide grin, she began to push it across the fog-draped parking lot toward the Titanic. "Exactly how would that work?" His boisterous laugh echoed through the parking lot and off the front of the building.

Albert knocked on the door of room 408, a room which had become infamous in the hospital corridors and invoked snickers when spoken of. Of course, nothing untoward ever occurred there. After all Dr. McIntyre had been shot and was in no shape for shenanigans. It was just that the two occupants had been known to have racy conversations that sometimes erupted into loud fits of laughter; sounds that inevitably wafted into the halls.

"Come in," called a deeply masculine voice.

"Dr. McIntyre, you're looking much better," said Albert, as he entered the room and went to Trapper's bedside, offering his hand. In the last few days, Albert had come to appreciate this man's sense of responsibility and loyalty to his practice, and even more importantly, to Leah. He wasn't stuffy, rather he was easy going; something he admired that Trapper had been able to retain in his position at the hospital. "Leah, are you there?" he said to the curtained wall surrounding the second bed.

"I'm here. Just getting dressed for work. Don't let that stop you, though. I know you didn't finish what you had to say yesterday morning."

"Well, in order to answer Trapper's question, I wanted to go over the files once more, and now that I have the full complaint, to see if there's anything hidden that wasn't summarized in the papers you were served. With you giving Manning the information for the encryption program, he hasn't really got a complaint, so if we go to discovery, I'm confident the judge will through the lawsuit out." He motioned to the chair, silently asking Trapper for permission to sit, and once Trapper nodded, he continued as he sat in the chair and crossed his legs. "I deposed Mark yesterday." He waited to see what reaction he would get. Trapper slowly turned his head toward Albert with a look of surprise. Activity on the other side of the curtain suddenly ceased for a moment until Leah stepped around the curtain in her slacks, but with her robe on, without makeup, and with her hair carelessly corralled on top of her head.

"I realize you weren't expecting that, but we were missing a crucial piece of information if you decide to go through with Trapper's idea. All we have as proof that Doug surveilled you is the detailed list from the detective and the pictures of Mark. That doesn't necessarily incriminate Doug. He could argue that Mark was acting on his own, and considering Mark's feelings for you, it's entirely plausible. Mark spilled his guts. He told me everything in the deposition. He has even provided copies of emails from Doug asking him to find out certain things." He turned to Trapper. "Some of those things deal with you and your activities with Leah." Trapper sighed and scratched his ear while Leah remained near the curtain with a folded hand over her mouth, her eyes giving Albert an anxious look as she remembered her casual attitude regarding clothing while at Lake Tahoe.

"If we countersue Manning and take this to trial, I think Manning will settle to prevent the bad press that will surely result. He won't want himself or his company seen in a way that could only hurt his business and his reputation. Because we have illegal surveillance, and that coupled with a frivolous lawsuit; one having no merit designed only to antagonize you, you have a very solid harassment complaint."

Leah made her way to Trapper's side of the room and sat down heavily on the foot of his bed. "I would sincerely love for all this to just go away so I…" She glanced over at Trapper and smiled weakly, "…so _we _can move forward. But there's part of me that wants to teach Doug a lesson. If I don't do this he's likely going to pick someone else to groom in his twisted ways. I don't need the money. I don't want the money, but I could donate the money to a worthy cause." Looking up at Albert, she asked, "How much money are we talking about?"

"We'll ask for a million. If he settles, and he probably will, it will likely be for half that."

She whistled. "Half a million dollars could do a lot of good somewhere. Won't he realize the risk in suing me?"

"He doesn't think you have the guts to come after him," said Trapper. "Think about it, Leah. The man carries his arrogance on his sleeve. He doesn't think anyone can touch him."

"With him being so conceited, what makes you think he'll agree to a settlement if I push back? Even if his attorneys advise it, it's his choice. What if he just wants to see me squirm?"

"Well," said Albert as he stroked his chin. "He'd be destroying his company. If he doesn't offer a settlement, we'll up the ante. I don't think he's stupid. He'll have his limits."

Turning away, Leah asked, "Do I have to give you an answer today?"

"Yes. You have to give me an answer right now. If you don't, you'll mull it over until it's mush," he said, smiling sympathetically. "Seriously, we have to be quick and decisive. It sends the message that you're serious; that you're not going to be bullied."

She turned to Trapper with big, round eyes to which Trapper responded with an apologetic frown. "I can't tell you what to do. You have to decide, kiddo."

"That's not fair. You're the one who brought this up. If I hadn't been for you, we wouldn't even be having this conversation," she snapped.

Leaning forward, he looked lovingly into her eyes, holding her gaze until she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

"I'm sorry I bit. You wouldn't have brought it up if… Taking a deep breath, she looked up at Albert. "Do it."


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter Seventy**

Walking into Leah's office in his black three-piece suit, Trapper said, "Are you ready? We're supposed to be at the courthouse in an hour."

"What have you been up to? You are still on medical leave, but for some reason, I get the feeling you've been visiting patients."

Trapper laughed and shook his head. "You're a master deflector, aren't you?"

Taking her black clutch from a drawer, she turned in her chair, removing her pink pig slipper and stepping into her shoe. "I'm ready," she said, moving up against him, waiting for him to bend his head into a kiss.

"We should be careful. People will talk."

"People are already talking. Did you know there's a pool?"

"A pool?"

"Yes. They're betting on how long it will last."

"Ah. Well," he said, with an impish smile. "They may have to wait awhile to find out." He kissed her again, and then sighed. "As much as I'd like to continue this non-verbal discussion, we have to go or we'll be late. I called a cab. I thought it would be easier on both of us."

As they walked down the hall to the elevator, Leah asked, "Have I ever told you what that suit does for me?"

"You mean what this suit does for me?"

"Exactly." As Leah continued on, Trapper stopped for a moment, moving a hand to his hip, wearing a crooked, naughty smile before he caught up to her. On the way to the courthouse, she held Trapper's hand tightly in the back seat of the cab.

"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly.

"I've never been sued before. I've never been to court either. Albert says even though Doug rejected a discovery hearing, he won't go far with this. He's still trying to intimidate me into admitting…something. Or at least wavering enough to shed some doubt."

Taking her hand and covering it with his other hand, he responded, "You have no reason to be nervous. Just tell the truth. You'll have him wavering."

Trapper escorted Leah into the courtroom when their docket number was called. Albert was already there, waiting for Leah at the front table. Trapper sat in the first row of the gallery right behind her and was joined by Arnold Slocum.

Turning, Albert motioned for Trapper to sit forward and listen to what he had to say to Leah. "Manning waved his right to a jury, thinking we'd do the same. My suspicion is that he knows this judge, so we did not wave your right to jury. That takes any power away from the judge in the decision…no risk of Manning having that judge in his pocket."

"Does that still happen?" asked Leah.

"Leah, my dear, you are a brilliant computer scientist, but there are still so many things you are quite naïve about. What happens in judge's chambers, for instance."

Pouting, she said, "Thanks, Albert," while Trapper sat back and chuckled to himself.

"Today we will be filing any last minute documentation, then go through jury selection. You don't have to stay for that part. The trial for the lawsuit will start tomorrow. But I'd like you to stay anyway. I don't think we'll get to jury selection. I'll be submitting Mark's deposition into evidence."

Everyone stood when the judge entered the courtroom. Leaning Leah's way, Albert said, "Manning's watching you very carefully. Once we sit down, I want you to glance over with a slight, but confident smile. He should see he's not having any success at intimidation."

Leah did what Albert asked, looking over at Doug with one corner of her mouth turned up and her eyes narrowed. Then she crossed her legs and held her chin up, maintaining a comfortable, self-assured smile.

"Will council approach the bench?"

Leah, Trapper and Arnold watched as the attorneys spoke, as Albert handed his new evidence to the judge, and as the judge read quickly through it. It seemed as if Manning's attorney was arguing, and indeed, their voices raised, but they overheard the judge say the deposition was legally recorded and appropriately witnessed document and could not be refuted. With that, the attorney asked for a moment with his client. As he and Doug conferred, those on Leah's side of the room watched closely. It was easy to see by Doug's demeanor and red face that he was unhappy. Eventually, the attorney returned to the bench, and shortly afterward, the judge said, "Mr. Manning has agreed to a settlement pending a discovery, so we will dispense with any further motions and get this done."

When Albert returned to the table, he whispered to Leah. "They're looking for holes. Don't leave any."

"Ms. Haverty, Mr. Shaefer has advised the court that the only intellectual property you have that might belong to Mr. Manning is an encryption program. Mr. Detwiler, Mr. Manning's attorney says there is the matter of a proprietary system upgrade."

She looked at Albert who nodded for her to speak. "Your Honor, I'll address the upgrade first. There are no upgrade plans for San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Historically, I have planned an upgrade of software and equipment after each initial installation of a system under Manning Consulting, however I don't agree that an upgrade is always the best course of action. Upgrades were performed as a matter of increasing revenue, not necessarily because it was what the client needed. Since I have resigned my position from Manning Consulting and am now an employee of the hospital, I have a fiduciary responsibility to the hospital, and it simply does not need the standard upgrade. I have solicited input from the department heads as to what they need that would make their applications work better for them, so only software changes are likely. But I'm not driving them. The people who use the systems are. I've never done that at Manning because there's no profit in it.

"And what about the encryption program?"

"I used an encryption program I created to protect the hospital systems during what turned out to be a national scandal. Once the danger in the hospital passed, I uninstalled the programs and destroyed the listings. Nothing is written down." She leaned forward and addressed Doug. "The difference in my encryption program is the level at which the encryption is performed. Today, the government and black ops teams generally use a device that encrypts passwords and passkeys at the decimal level. My encryption takes those decimal numbers and translates them to binary, so for each set of two decimal numbers, the encryption becomes a sixteen bit number containing only ones and zeros. I used sixteen of those sixteen bit numbers. The only other requirement is a numbering sequence where the progression is calculable to reset any compromised strings. I used a Fibonacci sequence, but any other calculable progressional sequence will work."

"And you're willing to give Mr. Manning that information?" asked the judge.

Sitting up straight, Leah furrowed her brows in a perplexed look. "I just did."

"Oh. Why didn't you give him this information before now?"

"He didn't ask for it. The first time I was aware he wanted it was the day I was served. I don't even understand why he's so interested in it. If someone hasn't already figured out a binary encryption, it will only be a matter of time before they will…I'd bet within the year."

"Mr. Schaefer, Mr. Manning is offering five hundred thousand dollars to settle this."

"Your Honor, when Mr. Manning decided to go to trial rather than an initial discovery, the countersuit became five million at that time. The standard reduction once my client had to walk into this courtroom can only be reduced to thirty percent of the amount of the original claim, in addition to attorney's fees."

"And what are you basing that amount on?"

"Other than filing a frivolous lawsuit designed to intimidate Ms. Haverty, there is much more to this story than the evidence you see in front of you. The major basis is on what was revealed in Mr. Hansens' affidavit along with the surveillance information that has also been certified with an affidavit. I do have witnesses that can attest to Mr. Manning's behavior and threats toward Ms. Haverty." He turned, indicating with his hand, "Dr. McIntyre, Chief of Surgery and Mr. Slocum, Hospital Administrator, both from San Francisco Memorial Hospital. In addition to that, we could go into detail about what is in the deposition and surveillance folders, if necessary. I also request that no gag order be granted as it denies Ms. Haverty her First Amendment rights."

Everyone looked at Doug who was shaking his head. "Mr. Detwiler, please advise your client that if he doesn't agree to the stated terms, we will go forward with a trial by jury, and we will exercise our First Amendment rights," Albert added.

Detwiler looked at Doug, who whispered in his ear. "Mr. Manning requests that this not be discussed with the press.

Albert looked back at Leah, who said under her breath, but loud enough to be heard in the echoic room. "I just want to be rid of the creep."

Doug sneered, but nodded curtly.

"I'll work with Mr. Detwiler to transfer the payment by the end of the week," finished Albert as he closed his briefcase. The judge slammed the gavel down and everyone stood as he left the courtroom.

"Is that it?" asked Leah. Albert smiled, nodded and hugged her while Trapper sat back with his hand covering his mouth, amazed at how deftly Albert handled the case.

Standing, he leaned over the rail and pulled Leah to him, giving her a long embrace. "You did it, kiddo. We should celebrate."

"At the moment, I just want to get out of this courtroom."

The two walked arm in arm toward the back doors and were met by several camera flashes. Reporters had gathered in the back of the courtroom, shouting questions as they watched the man who took a bullet for his country and the woman he saved walk out. A barrage of questions came at them to which Leah answered after she looked back one more time at Doug with that same confident smile, "No comment."


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter Seventy-One**

"Isn't that a beautiful sunset?" asked Leah who was wrapped in Trapper's arms as he stood behind her on the deck of the guest house while the two took in the unobstructed view over the Pacific Ocean. A light wind blew up the cliff bringing with it the smell of salt water.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Trapper said, "And peaceful…finally."

"You're not disappointed that I wanted to stay in tonight, are you?" she asked, leaning her cheek into his.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" he responded softly as he placed small, light kisses upon her neck.

"You said you wanted to celebrate. This isn't exactly what I'd call a celebration."

Turning her and holding her tightly against him, he looked into her eyes, and then moved a stray hair that had blown across her face. "And why can't two people celebrate alone? We've got dinner on the grill, good wine, soft music playing in the background, a view of the sunset all to ourselves, and best of all, no pagers to interrupt our evening." As he bent to kiss her, he said, "Maybe we can finish what we started when this whole mess began."

Leah's hands found their way around him where she stroked his back as they enjoyed a long, deep kiss. In the midst of a second, hungrier kiss, the wind shifted, sending smoke from the grill their way.

"Mm. Wait," said Leah, attempting to extract herself only to find that Trapper had hold of her lower lip and was hesitant to let it go. "Trap…" She giggled at his nibble. "Something's…burning."

He raised his head and looked toward the grill. "Duty calls, my dear," he said, releasing his hold, but grasping her chin for one more quick kiss. While Trapper tended their dinner, Leah went to the kitchen and retrieved their wine, handing a glass to Trapper as he settled on one of the chaise lounges. He held Leah's glass while she maneuvered her cast to a comfortable position on the chaise beside him.

After sitting quietly enjoying the fading oranges and pinks in the sky, Trapper asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to do with the money?"

"I have. The only place in this area for children who need long term care besides the cancer centers is the Children's Hospital at the University, and they're overcrowded. The cancer centers don't have a separate facility for children, so children who go there are mixed in with the adults, and the kids get lonely and scared because of all the noise associated with caring for dying people…the machines, the codes being called, and the staff running through the halls to get to the rooms. That's no place for a kid who doesn't even understand what's happening to himself." She took a sip of wine, and then took a deep breath. "I haven't even been to Peds at the hospital. Gloria was telling my why the ward children were there; that most of them were admitted by Child Protective Services."

Taking her hand, Trapper said, "I don't think you should visit the Peds ward. The children there are very accepting of a smiling face, but I think going to see them will do you more harm than good. It's one thing for a child to have an illness where there's no fault to place, but I don't believe your heart…not the physical one…could handle seeing kids abused by their relatives."

"There's no place at the hospital, except in the general population, for children who need long term care. All the area hospitals send them to Children's and sometimes they miss the extra attention they need because it's so crowded. So I'd like to find out what it would cost to fund a new wing at San Francisco Memorial as a long term care ward for children."

Smiling, Trapper set his wine down on a side table and turned, moving her hand to his lips. "Are you sure this is what you want to do with it?"

Returning a warm smile, she answered, "I'm sure. I just don't know where to start. Will you help me?"

Trapper got up from his chaise and walked back to the grill, turning their dinner and checking it for doneness. "First, you have to figure out how you want it set up. Do you want it to be under the hospital's non-profit umbrella or do you want its own separate designation. Do you want it to be an outright gift or do you want to set up a foundation for endowments?"

"I didn't know it was going to be that complicated," she said, biting her lip. "I have no idea what would be the better way to make sure it maintains adequate funding. I don't even know if one and a half million is adequate funding to start."

Trapper prepared two plates from the food on the grill and took the plates to a small table further down on the narrow deck. Then he went back to the chaise, offering his hand to help Leah up. When they were seated, he refilled their wine glasses. "I assume Albert has financial advisors he consults regarding your investments. If Albert could set up a meeting when them, I think you'll get your questions answered about the best way to set it up. And I think I can help you find an architect who can help you with a conceptual drawing. Of course, you'll have to present it to the board, but I don't think they've ever turned down a paid addition to the hospital. You'll have to have all the information together before you talk to them."

"So you think it's a good idea?"

"You earned that money the hard way. You deserve it. Don't let anyone try to tell you what to do with it." He split his grilled potato and added sour cream. "And yes, I think it's a wonderful idea," he said, winking.

Once the dinner dishes were cleaned and put away, the two wandered back out to the deck, listening to the music from Leah's stereo and slowly dancing in a small circle.

"How's your foot?"

"What foot?" she answered, smiling as she moved her hand to the back of his neck and guided him down into a light kiss. As they spoke, their lips frequently met in light touches.

"The one with the cast. You're supposed to be propping it up."

"Oh yeah. That foot. I'd rather dance."

"I have a better idea. Why don't we go to bed early so we can get up early and take a drive up the coast tomorrow?"

"But I'm not sleepy."

"I can take care of that."

"Dr. Gates will not be happy with you. You're supposed to avoid strenuous activity."

"I don't plan on telling Dr. Gates. And besides, there's something to be said for slow and easy."

She giggled. "I hate to kill the moment, but I have to go to work tomorrow."

"Dr. Gates will not be happy with you either. You're supposed to be resting."

"Well, I have to make sure David is sound in his new position before I leave. And I'll be interviewing someone for the new project manager position tomorrow. After that, I will rest."

"Then how about tomorrow afternoon?"

"For what?"

"A drive up the coast. I know this little inn in Albion with rooms that look over the cliffs to the ocean. We could stop in the little towns, take a look around…relax."

"Sounds like a plan," she said, wrapping both arms around his neck and accepting a long, deep kiss that set the mood for the rest of the evening.

With the Jeep packed, Trapper helped Leah into the passenger seat, then climbed behind the wheel and pulled out of the driveway. "Did Gonzo clear you to drive?" asked Leah.

Glancing over and smiling, he answered, "I am a doctor…a more experienced doctor. I don't need to ask Gonzo if I can drive."

"It's said that doctors make the worst patients."

"We do have the Jeep, and you know where I got it."

Laughing, she asked, "Was he disappointed?"

"Devastated," he chuckled. "I thought we'd take our time going up Highway 1, stay the night at Albion, and then go up into the coastal redwoods. We'll get a cabin for a few nights and wander through the groves."

"Sounds delightful," she said with a wide grin before she put on her sunglasses and lay her head back on the headrest, enjoying the ride.

"How did your morning go?"

"David's going to do fine while I'm gone. He has a good understanding of the system. I went ahead and made out the work schedules for the next week for the tape library and the console operator. Some of the programmers will be manning those positions until I can get people hired for that. And I went to see Mike. He's coming back as a full time hire, so I'll probably make him supervisor over the data center folks."

"What about the interview?"

She hesitated answering until he glanced at her with raised brows. "Frieda always interviews well. She knows her stuff, and she knows the health care industry. She's ambitious. I think I'm going to have to rein her in some."

He arched an eyebrow and wore a mischievous smile that she couldn't see. "Am I hearing you'll have some competition for your job?"

"Oh, most definitely. She's quite capable, except that she sometimes pushes too hard and puts people off. The bad part is that it's personal for her, and she doesn't hesitate to let you know it's personal either."

"If she's that difficult, why are you considering her?"

"Because, I would say, though it's hard…I mean, I do have an ego…she's as technically capable as me. And if I can work with her for awhile, maybe I can work that bad part out of her. I've only worked with her for a few months in the past before she's moved on." Leah looked over at him, but then bowed her head. "If I decide I don't like the politics, I'm going to look for something else. I don't know what I'll find after the fiasco with Doug, but I'm sure there's something out there where he has no influence."

"You mean in San Francisco."

She raised her head from the headrest and removed her sunglasses, turning to him. "San Francisco is the first place I'll look, but Trapper, if I don't find something, I'll have to look further out…like San Jose…maybe even Sacramento."

"San Jose isn't that far away. Sacramento…"

Moving her hand to his thigh, she said, "There's no reason to worry about it at the moment. I haven't had to worry about the politics just yet, and I have something else that will probably keep me here for awhile, and that's the children's wing."

Trapper smiled and lifted her hand to his lips. Leah leaned back against the headrest again, and went back to enjoying the views. For the next hour, Trapper pondered his options if she did decide to leave her job at the hospital. San Jose was doable, but he didn't want her as far away as Sacramento. The fact was he didn't want her to leave the hospital at all. He began to consider permanence in their relationship.


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter Seventy-Two**

"Excuse me," Leah said to the woman sitting across the desk from her in response to a knock on her door. "Come in."

Trapper swung the door open and leaned in, balancing on the door knob and holding the door frame with his other hand. "Sorry for the interruption. I wanted to let you know I'll be in surgery all morning. I'll call you for lunch."

Standing, Leah introduced him to her visitor. "Trapper, this is Frieda Christopher, the candidate for my old position with the Systems Group. Frieda, this is our Chief of Surgery, Dr. John McIntyre."

Trapper stood up straight and with a smile, offered his hand to Ms. Christopher, who also stood. "Ms. Christopher, it's nice to meet you. Now, if you two ladies will excuse me, I'm off to surgery." Winking at Leah, he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

An appreciative smile appeared on Frieda's face the minute Trapper smiled. "Is he married?" she said, with a lingering look at the door.

Resuming her seat, Leah cleared her throat. "Ah…no. Divorced."

"Kids?"

"Two; a boy in college and a girl who just started."

"So none at home."

Taking a deep breath, Leah said, "No; a confirmed bachelor…sort of."

Frieda sat back down, crossing her legs and leaning forward. "Sort of? He's involved?"

With an amused grin, Leah answered, "Yes, as I understand it. But why are you interested? You don't stay in one place long enough to nurture relationships."

"Well, when one hits the big 4-0, one starts to think about stability in one's life."

Laughing, Leah said, "Stability. That's a word I never thought would come out of your mouth."

"Well, stability isn't very exciting. It's easy to fall into a rut."

"Yes, but some ruts can be quite satisfying. Anyway, speaking of stability, I'll want you to sign a two-year contract."

Sitting back in her seat, Frieda narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"I don't want to invest the time to train you on this system and your job if you're going to be moving on in six months."

"That never bothered you before."

"I don't work for Manning Consulting anymore. I have to think about the bottom line here."

"I heard about you and Manning. How'd the lawsuit go?"

"Let's just say he wasn't happy and leave it at that. I'm surprised he didn't come to you."

"He did, but I was through with Doug before you were. Nasty piece of work there." Frieda looked away and chewed her lip. "Two years. That's a long time for me."

"You just said you needed to start thinking about stability."

Leaning down and picking her purse up off the floor beside her chair, Frieda stood. "I do." Turning toward the door, she added, "Need to think about it. Do you mind if I walk around your hospital and get a feel for the place?"

"It's a public hospital. Just behave yourself."

Laughing, Frieda opened the door. "You know me too well. I'll be quick with an answer."

"You ready?" asked Trapper, stepping in Leah's open door.

"So soon? I expected you a little later."

"I have another surgery in an hour. It's now or never."

"Just let me grab some money."

Walking into her office, he took her by the arm and pulled her up out of her chair. "Come on, come on, come on," he said in fast repetition. "You don't need money. I'm buying."

As they hurried down the hall, she said, "Slow down. I can't go that fast with this block of plaster on my foot."

"When does it come off?" he asked once they were in the elevator.

"I was going to ask Gonzo that very same question. It doesn't hurt anymore. It just gets in the way."

In the line in the cafeteria, Leah hesitated when it came time to make her choice of sandwich. "It's not that difficult a choice…ham or chicken," he said impatiently.

"Why are you being so pushy?"

"We'll have one of each," he said to the server. She gave him an angry glare. "You can have whichever one you want," he said with raised eyebrows. "Let's move on down. You're holding up the line."

While Trapper paid, Leah took her tray out to an empty table, but before she sat down, he called, "Not there. Over here." Trapper had pointed to a table in a corner, and seated himself with his back against the wall.

"Which one do you want?"

Picking up one half of her sandwich, then one half of his, she moved them to opposite plates. "That settles that. Now, would you mind telling me what's wrong with you?"

"There you are," said Frieda, approaching them with a tray." Trapper exhaled long and slowly as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling.

Looking from Trapper to Frieda, and then back to Trapper, Leah couldn't suppress a giggle. "I see."

"Dr. McIntyre, having lunch with a member of the board? Either you're well connected, or…isn't that kind of thing frowned upon around here?"

Glancing quickly at Trapper who had buried his face in his sandwich, Leah chuckled to herself. "What in the world are you referring to, Frieda?"

She sat down next to Trapper. "I asked the good doctor to join me for lunch, but he said he didn't have time. Surgery, you know."

"Well, he didn't really lie. He only has an hour, and that's why he's wolfing down his sandwich," Leah said with a glare that stopped him in mid-chew. "Besides, he already had lunch plans."

"Involved. Right," said Frieda with a scowl. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I like your hospital. And the staff. And the programming staff. Where do I sign?"

Trapper gave Leah a helpless look, making her cough to hide another laugh.

"I'll have the contract drawn up this afternoon and send it to you. Where are you staying?" Frieda pushed a card across the table. "Nice hotel," said Leah, nodding her approval. "You'll need to sign it and get it back to me. I'll have to get approval from the board, but I don't see any obstacles there. It will probably take the rest of the week."

"Good. That will give me time to look for a place. I don't suppose I could stay with you if I don't find one quickly?" said Frieda, asking with raised brows.

"I'm afraid my place is more like a studio; one big room and one bed…and at the moment, it's occupied," Leah said, winking at Trapper.

Gonzo trotted to the middle of the cafeteria and spun around, then ran toward their table. "Ladies," he said quickly. "Trapper, Jenny Keller is hemorrhaging. We have to go in now."

"Taking one last big bite and following it with a long drink of water, Trapper stood. "I hate to leave so suddenly, ladies, but duty calls," he said, bending and giving Leah a quick sloppy kiss and trotting out of the cafeteria behind Gonzo.

Frieda watched them go. "Involved, indeed. Who's the other one?"

"That's Dr. Gates," answered Leah with a wicked gleam as she wiped her mouth. "Everyone calls him Gonzo. He's…ah…not. Involved, that is."


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter Seventy-Three**

"What have we got?" asked Trapper as he walked to the light box in the operating room.

"Severe endocarditis with aortic stenosis. But look at this area here," said Gonzo, pointing to the left side of the heart.

"Looks like the left coronary artery is compromised," said Trapper, leaning closer to the film. "How old is this kid?"

"She's eleven."

"How's her teeth?"

"Dental hygiene was good, so I don't think oral bacteria caused this. The valve problem could be congenital. Any infection would attach itself to the weakened valve and spread."

"How did this get this far without anyone noticing?"

"Her parents are homeless," said Gonzo. "The husband lost his job, and they live in their car with two other children. They didn't see the symptoms until there was blood in her urine."

"Well, they may have waited too long," said Trapper with a frown on his way to the operating table. "Is she ready?"

"Blood pressure one forty over ninety; pulse ninety-three."

"How much blood has she had?"

"She's halfway through the first unit."

Holding his hand out for a scalpel, Trapper said, "Let's open her up and see what we've got."

When Trapper and Gonzo exited the emergency suite it was late in the afternoon, and they still had to see the parents who were waiting anxiously.

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller? I'm Dr. McIntyre. This is Dr. Gates. Your daughter has a severe infection in her heart. It started with a deformed valve between the heart and the aorta which is a primary artery. Because the valve was weakened, infection set in and spread to the rest of her heart, and this caused necrosis in another artery." Based on the confused look on the parents' faces, Trapper continued in more lay terms. "The artery developed small holes which led to internal bleeding. We've replaced the valve and we've tried to repair the holes, but there are other areas of her heart that have also been compromised, so we'll be watching her closely. For right now, she's stable, but that could change at any minute."

"You mean she could die?" asked the father.

"I'm not going to lie to you," said Trapper. "She's still in serious condition. If we can keep her stable for the next forty-eight hours, we'll take another look. But I have to warn you, we may have to start looking for another heart if we can't clear up the infection."

The mother moved her hand over her mouth crying, "How did this happen? She's always been a healthy child."

"Mrs. Keller," said Gonzo. "We think the valve was deformed from birth. Has she been ill recently with a fever?"

"She had a cold…we all had it."

"It was more like the flu," Mr. Keller added. "We were all achy and nauseated."

"That could have been the trigger," said Gonzo.

"You folks try to get some rest. It may be a long wait. Please stop by the nurse's desk and leave your contact information. We'll call you if anything changes." Trapper watched as the Keller's walked away, Mrs. Keller in tears and leaning into her husband. He waited until they turned the corner at the end of the short hall before he went to the locker room to shower and change.

Leah had just hung two paintings on the bare wall to the right side of her desk where a table and two wing chairs sat before she began to go through a box on her desk. Her office was much like Trapper's, but a bit larger, although it didn't have a private bathroom. A window behind her desk looked out over the courtyard between the annex and the main hospital. Her walls had been painted a sand color and white crown molding encircled the room. The wing chairs were upholstered in dark blue, green and burgundy material that matched her drapes. She also added live plants and two sculptures that had been retrieved along with the paintings from her storage unit containing her belongings from her former LA home.

She had pulled a framed picture out of the box, and had slowly sat down, staring at the picture just before Trapper opened her door.

"You're still here?"

Moving the picture against her, she turned away and covered her mouth with her hand.

Trapper proceeded to her desk and leaned over. "Leah?" When she didn't answer, he moved around the desk and knelt in front of her, slowly taking the picture out of her hands.

Turning the frame around, Trapper studied the unusual picture of three figures silhouetted against the sun with the ocean in the background; a man with a little girl sitting on his shoulders and a boy standing in front of and against him. "Did you take this picture?"

She nodded, bowing her head into her hands, and wept. "Oh God, I miss them."

Setting the picture on her desk, Trapper drew her out of her chair as he stood and guided her head to his chest as he held her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You have no reason to be sorry. I wouldn't expect this to ever completely go away."

"I thought I would hang a few pictures of them on the wall. Maybe I shouldn't."

"I don't know. Maybe you should. It might help you to get to a point that you can smile at the memories."

She touched his face in thanks, and stepped away, moving the picture back to the box. "Maybe later for these," she said, sniffling and using the handkerchief Trapper gave her to wipe her eyes. "Have you been in the same surgery all this time?" She walked to the coffee pot, holding it up. He nodded, and she poured two cups and moved over to the wing chairs.

Trapper sat down and crossed his legs. "Thanks," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. He was still pondering how to answer her question about the surgery, considering what he had just walked in on, but thought he would forge ahead. If she was going to continue working in a hospital and be involved with him, she would hear about his surgeries often enough.

"Yes, heart surgery…aortic stenosis and severe endocarditis that's compromised the rest of her heart."

"Sometimes getting old can be rough."

"She's not old. The valve problem is probably congenital."

"How old is she?"

Scratching his ear, Trapper grimaced. "Eleven."

Leah sucked in a breath as her chin quivered. "Oh. How is she?"

"Not good. We may have to look for another heart if we can't clear up the infection. Then again, we may not have time to find a heart if she needs one. The damage is extensive."

Setting her coffee cup down on the table with a shaking hand, Leah turned away again.

"Are you still seeing Sandler?"

"Occasionally," she sniffled.

"Maybe you should call him." She shrugged without looking back at him. "Listen, I'll be staying awhile to keep an eye on Jenny." She looked at him with furrowed brows. "My heart patient. Why don't I find someone to take you home?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No," and offered a frail smile. "I have a few more things to do. I'll just call a cab when I'm ready. But while you're here, would you mind looking over this contract and see if you find anything glaring?" she asked, taking the contract off the desk and handing it to him. "I used the hospital's standard contract for interns as a guide. If it looks okay, I'll leave it on the hospital attorney's desk tonight for review so I can get it to Frieda tomorrow. And speaking of Frieda, do you want to tell me what all that was about in the cafeteria today?"

Trapper had begun looking through the contract and stopped, raising his head and looking forward uncomfortably.

Noticing the expression, Leah said, "Ah, come on. It can't be that bad. I've never seen you run when an attractive woman paid attention to you."

"Paying attention is one thing. Your friend, Frieda, is a…" He smiled uneasily and snorted. "Well…she's a tart."

"She's not really my friend, though she tries. She's a little…forward…for my tastes. What'd she do?"

"She invited me to lunch…in her hotel room," he said, looking up from the contract with raised brows.

"That's not what had you hiding in a corner," said Leah, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

Cutting his eyes quickly at her, and then going back to the contract, he said, "She goosed me."

"She goosed you?" Leah repeated, unable to forestall the amused look on her face.

Taking a deep breath and flaring his nostrils, he stood and laid the contract back on the desk with a sarcastic smile. "I'm glad my embarrassment brightened your day. This looks all right to me. Just make sure legal approves it," he said, heading for the door.

"Just a minute, Mister," she said sternly, rising from her chair. Walking up to him, leaning into his chest and looking up," she asserted, "Your behind is mine. No one gooses it but me. You can relax. I steered her toward Gonzo."

An eyebrow shot up at the same time the corner of his mouth turned up. "Oh. I can't wait to see this," he said before he kissed her and left.


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter Seventy-Four**

Pushing the ICU room door open, Leah poked her head in before she slowly stepped inside and waited by the door. Trapper was standing at the side of the bed, looking at the patient's chart. Moving the earpieces of his stethoscope to his ears, he listened to her heart. After that, he stood silently looking down at the child's face, the picture of unknowing serenity, before he gently placed his hand on her forehead. It appeared the doctor had a huge soft spot for suffering children.

Turning and noticing Leah at the door, Trapper quietly replaced the chart at the foot of the bed, and went to her. "How is she?" asked Leah.

"Her fever isn't coming down with the antibiotics. Her EKG isn't any better either. I think we'll have to start looking for a heart. Why are you still here?"

"I'm restless. I don't think I could sleep anyway. Where are her parents? I didn't see anyone in the waiting room."

"Apparently, they're in the parking lot."

"What?"

Nodding at the door, he took her arm and guided her outside, telling her about the Keller's situation as they walked down the hall.

"When are you going to tell them?"

"I'm going to send someone for them now."

Stopping in the hall, turning to him and placing her hands on his chest, she said, "I'll go."

He held her hands against him, his weariness showing on his face with heavy eyelids and deep frown lines. "I don't know if that's a good idea considering the day you've had."

"I wouldn't volunteer if I didn't think I could handle it. Please?" she said, looking hopefully into his eyes.

"All right," he said softly with a slight smile. "They're in a blue station wagon with Nevada plates. Bring them to my office."

Calvin Keller stirred at the sound of tapping on the window of his station wagon half expecting to see a policeman or security officer telling him to move on. He wiped his eyes when he saw a blonde woman with a pleasant smile looking down at him and rolled the window down halfway.

"Mr. Keller?" He nodded. "I'm Leah Haverty, a board member here at the hospital. Dr. McIntyre would like to see you in his office.

"Is Jenny okay?"

"She's stable. But her fever isn't breaking, and Dr. McIntyre would like to talk to you about the next step in her treatment."

Gently shaking his wife awake, he said, "Abby, Dr. McIntyre wants to see us about Jenny."

"Is she all right?" the woman asked sleepily.

"Hi, Mrs. Keller. She's still stable. Dr. McIntyre wants to update you."

"Mom, I'm hungry."

"You'll have to wait until morning, Kelly. Go back to sleep. Your father and I have to go back into the hospital."

As the Keller's were exiting the car, Leah looked in on the children who where both trying to sleep curled up in the back seat. "How old are these two?"

"Thirteen and fourteen."

"Why don't we take them with us? I think I can find a place for them to get more comfortable, and even find something to eat. Did they have dinner?"

The Kellers looked shamefully at one another. "Not much, but they're all right."

Leah gave them a muted smile. "Please. I'd like to help if I can."

The entire family of Kellers entered the hospital with Leah who stopped at the nurse's desk when she went by emergency. "Gloria, you're working tonight?"

"Double shift. I'm covering for Ernie."

"Do you have time to do something for me?"

"Sure. It's quiet tonight," Gloria said, smiling. "It will give me something to do."

"Would you call housekeeping and ask them to take two cots with linens and pillows up to my office and set them up?" Reaching into her pocket, Leah drew out some cash. "Take these two to the cafeteria and get them some sandwiches and milk, and then take them to my office." She turned to the two children. "I'm going to trust you to be on your best behavior. Remember, you're in a hospital. Now, Nurse Brancusi is going to take you to get something to eat. You are to take it to my office. There's a table there where you can sit while you eat. It's late, so after you eat I want you to go right to bed. Don't leave my office. Someone will come get you when it's time to go."

The two children looked at their parents who looked at one another anxiously before they looked at Nurse Brancusi. "Don't worry folks. Ms. Haverty just has a bigger than normal heart."

"Ha," laughed Leah. "Good one."

The Kellers nodded and the children when quietly off with Gloria.

Trapper was waiting for them with coffee when they entered his office. "I know this is unusual, but if you don't mind, I'd like to stay," said Leah. "I have some personal experience with what you're dealing with, and I'd like to offer support if I can."

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller, Leah is the hospital's Chief Information Officer. She overseas our computer systems, but she's does have some unique experience. However, if you don't want to discuss Jenny with her here, that's your right."

"No, it's all right," said Mr. Keller. "Ms. Haverty has already been a great help."

"Would you like some coffee?" asked Trapper.

Both nodded. Leah motioned to Trapper, sending him to his desk while she prepared the coffee. "We have Jenny on some very strong antibiotics, but her fever isn't coming down. Her EKG, what we use to monitor her heart, isn't showing any improvement either. She's having several abnormal beats every few minutes which means that the heart is still very stressed. Considering the damage from the infection, I don't think it's going to get any better." He paused while Leah passed out the coffee.

"You mentioned a heart transplant earlier," said Mr. Keller.

"I'd like to give her a little more time to see if she can fight the infection, but I would suggest we get her on the list for a heart."

"On a list? If she needs a heart now, how long will that take?" asked Mrs. Keller worriedly.

Scratching his chin, Trapper said, "Well, when we put her on the list, we add her current condition, so those who are most critical get first consideration. It will depend on how many others are on the list in more danger or as much danger as Jenny. We also have to match her blood and tissue types, so the hearts that do become available may not be a match for her. There's no guarantee we'll get a heart immediately."

"What happens if we can't get a heart," Mr. Keller asked softly.

When Trapper smiled, Leah wondered how he managed it, facing what he knew were enormous risks.

"We'll do everything we can to keep her stable until we find one."

"Dr. McIntyre, we can't pay for this. We have nothing left but our car and our clothes. We've even hocked our wedding bands."

"That's where I come in," said Leah, glancing at Trapper who looked warily at her. "Mr. Keller, what did you do for a living?"

"I was a loan officer at a savings and loan. I lost my job when they collapsed and haven't been able to find anyone willing to hire me for even basic work."

"Can you get me a resume?"

"I have some copies of my resume in the car. Why?"

"Because I'd like to interview you for a job. I need to hire several tape technicians for the hospital's data center. It's probably different from anything you've ever done, but if you have a capacity for finance, this should be fairly easy for you to learn. It probably doesn't pay what you made as a loan officer, but it's a decent income. I can also help you and your family find a place to live until you get on your feet. And if we can get this all done before Dr. McIntyre finds a heart, the insurance coverage you'll get here will cover most of it."

Mrs. Keller broke down. "This is too much to handle at once. Our daughter is on death's door, and a woman we don't know has just swooped in to save us. Is this real?"

Smiling, Trapper said, "It's very real, Mrs. Keller. Leah has a background that drives her to this, especially when a child is involved. And she can help you get through all the special needs of a heart transplant. She's a heart recipient herself."

The two Kellers stared open-mouthed at her.

"Well, I'm going to work on getting you a hotel room while you go look in on Jenny," said Leah, standing. "I'll bring the children to ICU when I'm done and give you directions to the hotel. Mr. Keller, can you come to my office at ten tomorrow morning with your resume?"

"Yes, of course."

When the Kellers left the hospital neither Mr. nor Mrs. Keller said a word. Between their concern for Jenny and their disbelief in the help they were receiving, they had no idea what to say.

"It's midnight," said Trapper, walking up behind as Leah she stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital watching the Kellers drive away.

She leaned into his side when he draped his arm across her shoulders. "Yes, doctor, it is midnight. What are you still doing here?"

"I have a critical patient."

"Do you always stay all night when you have critical patients? Why do you have a house?" she asked, teasingly.

Slowly turning his head and giving her a tired look, he said, "Don't argue with me, woman. Go home and go to bed."

"What if I sleep on your sofa?"

"Then I won't have a place to sleep."

Groaning, Leah gave in. "All right. I'll call a cab since you drove the Jeep. But I don't think I'll sleep. It's been a little while since I've been there alone. Can't they page you if anything changes with Jenny?"

"She's too critical. Her heart could fail at any minute, and if I'm that far away, I won't be able to do her much good. But I want you to go to my house. If Mark is around, he won't be looking for you there."

"So you want me to sleep with this on my mind in a strange house and in a strange bed?" asked Leah, leaning back to get a good look at his face.

"I'm sending you home with something to help you sleep." She gave him a stern look and took a deep breath. "And you _will_ take it," he continued, giving her his own severe look . "You're supposed to be resting. You're not supposed to be working longer than eight hours, and if you don't stop, I can always officially send you home."

"I'm not a contractor anymore. I'm a member of the board."

"That doesn't matter. If I tell Arnold that you need the rest, you will be ordered to go home and rest."

She jerked her arm from around him at the same time she pushed herself away with her other hand and huffed, turning back to the hospital.

"Home is that way," he said, pointing south.

"Do you mind if I get my things?" she said loudly over her shoulder as she continued her walk toward the front doors of the hospital.


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter Seventy-Five**

After Trapper closed the cab door once Leah was safely inside, he leaned down to the window handing the driver cash. "That should more than cover the fare. Stay with her until she's inside the house with the door closed," he said to the cabby with raised eyebrows.

The driver flipped through the cash, folded it and slightly waved it as he said, "Sure thing, doc."

When Leah entered the house, she turned and waved to the cabby. Closing the door, she stopped for a moment and took a quick look around before she turned and threw the bolt. She had been here before, but it was strange coming into the darkened house alone. As she climbed the stairs with her briefcase in one hand and a change of clothes on a hanger in the other, she wondered if he made his bed every day or if she'd find it with the covers thrown to one side and a pillow mashed against the headboard. Then she chuckled at the silly thought.

She'd never been upstairs in his house, but finding the bedroom was easy. It was the biggest room on the second floor…and the bed was made.

After setting her briefcase on the floor by the chair, she hung her clothes in the closet, then undressed, shrugging on Trapper's robe when she went into the bathroom to do her nightly detail, including taking the pill Trapper had made her promise she'd take. She stood looking at the medicine cabinet for a moment before she slowly opened it, feeling a little naughty at the intrusion, but then remembered he'd been in her bathroom going through her drawers, looking for a pair of scissors to trim his beard. She raised her chin and gave a short nod at her justification, then proceeded to look through its contents. There were no surprises as the cabinet contained a sparse collection of the normal stuff, at least for a man. She laughed at the box of condoms and looked to see how full the box was. Then she noticed the shaving cream and wondered why he needed shaving cream. Her mouth opened and her eyebrows rose in an 'ah ha!' moment when she remembered how he had shaved his neck in front of her bathroom mirror.

Standing before the bed before she disturbed it, she never imagined she would be sleeping in it alone, especially the first time. She sighed and pulled the covers back, slipped off the robe and slid her naked body between the sheets. The pillow and blankets carried his scent, and once cozily ensconced, she felt as if he was there with his arms wrapped around her as the drug Trapper had given her took effect.

Arriving at the hospital at seven the next morning, Leah dropped her briefcase off in her office before she went to Trapper's office. He wasn't there, so she went to ICU to see how Jenny Keller was. Jenny wasn't there either.

"Do you know where Jenny Keller is?" she asked the nurse changing the bed linens.

"Are you a family member?"

Leah chuckled. "No. I'm Leah Haverty. I'm assisting the Kellers."

"The little girl coded early this morning. Dr. McIntyre took her to surgery again, and the Kellers are in the waiting room outside the surgical suite."

Leah's smile disappeared slowly. "Oh. Oh no," she said uneasily. She thanked the nurse and hurried to the elevator. Stepping out of the elevator, she turned toward the surgical suite, but jerked to a halt when she saw Gonzo and Trapper coming through the automatic doors. The Kellers met him in the middle of the hallway, and by the way Mrs. Keller buried her face in her husband's shoulder and the way Trapper was shaking his head, she knew the news was bad.

Before she even knew it, tears were streaming down her face, and when Trapper looked down the hall at her, and she saw his sorrowful expression, she couldn't stay, hurrying back to the elevator.

"Dr. Gates, would you show Mr. and Mrs. Keller to the chapel?" Trapper turned back to the Kellers. "Our chaplain will help you with whatever arrangements you'd like to make."

"Dr. McIntyre," said Mr. Keller, his face wet with tears. "This may sound unfeeling, but I do need to meet with Ms. Haverty. I have two other children to think of, and I could really use that job."

Moving a hand to Keller's shoulder, Trapper responded, "Don't worry about that right now. I'll speak to Ms. Haverty and let her know what's happened. She'll want you to stay at the hotel until everything is taken care of, and I'm sure she'll be happy to reschedule your interview. Where are the children now?"

"They're still at the hotel. We didn't wake them when we left, but we left a note."

"Would you like me to send someone for them?"

"No thank you, Doctor," said Mrs. Keller through her sobs. "They're well behaved children, and we've left instructions for them until we get back. Besides that, I don't want to tell them here."

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller, if you'll come with me, I'll take you down to the chaplain," said Gonzo, motioning down the hall toward the elevator.

Trapper walked with them and sent them down in the elevator, waiting for the elevator to come back up. Boarding, he pushed the button for the executive floor. He quietly turned the knob of her office door and slowly pushed it open, peering in. Leah was sitting in one of the wing chairs, one hand in her lap and the other holding a tissue at her mouth. Stepping in, he noticed the photographs she had placed on the credenza and on her book shelf as well as those hanging on the walls and smiled.

Rolling the desk chair over to her, he sat in front of her and took her hand from her lap. "Are you all right?" he asked softly.

She sniffled and wiped her nose. "This is ridiculous, I know. I honestly don't know how you do it."

"It's never easy," he said, smiling. "I do it because I save more than I lose."

"I'm sorry I ran out on you like that. I should've been able to help if I could."

Shaking his head, he replied, "It wasn't your responsibility, even though you'd like to think it was. We have a chaplain to help them work through the details. You know, if you're going to keep offering assistance, you might want to talk to the chaplain yourself. Let him know what you can do, and then let him take care of the families. That's his job. In fact, you could probably start a fund here at the hospital for that with part of the money you're getting from Manning."

"Maybe you're right," she said, taking his hand in both of hers. "But I do need to tell them they can stay at the hotel until everything is taken care of."

"I already told them."

Shifting her eyes up to his, she cocked her head. "Did you also tell Mr. Keller that I'll do the interview afterward as well?"

"I did," he said with a nod and half smile.

Wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she said bravely, "Last thing…have you had breakfast?"

"No, and I'm starved," he replied, wrinkling his nose.

"Well, let's go then. I'm buying." Trapper rolled the chair back to her desk, but before they left the office, she turned to him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed.

Gonzo was already in the cafeteria when Leah and Trapper arrived with their trays. He waved them over to his table. Noticing Leah's red eyes, he thought he might try a subject with no reference to the Kellers. "Leah, I wanted to ask you about Frieda Christopher."

"Ask me what?" she said sadly, sitting across from him with Trapper sitting next to her.

"She seems nice enough. If I decide to invite her to the Titanic, what should I know?"

"You're thinking about taking her to the Titanic?" said Trapper, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Well, yeah. Why not? She's friendly enough."

"What do you want to know?" Leah asked without her usual cheerful smile.

"I don't know. Is she clingy? Is she looking for something long term?"

"You do know she's older than you. She's older than me, as a matter of fact," said Leah, pouring honey over a biscuit. "Frieda says she's looking for stability in her life. Personally, I don't know that she's capable of that. That's why I'm requiring her to sign a two-year contract. I don't really see her settling down, though, Gonzo. She's always been the kind that likes…variety. By the way," she said, turning and winking at Trapper before she looked back across the table at Gonzo. "How did you happen to meet her?"

"She made an indecent proposal." Both Trapper and Leah laughed. "No really, she came right up to me and whispered something dirty in my ear." Gonzo puffed up with a wide grin. "Made my day."

Leah's lower jaw dropped as she moved her hand to cover her mouth. She leaned against Trapper. "You've just lost your title of dirty old man to a dirty old young man," she said seemingly in a lighter mood.

Trapper said nothing, but continued a low, deep laugh.

"I'm not dirty. I'm just young," insisted Gonzo. "There's something to be said for being purposely unattached. Besides," he said, leaning forward. "Variety _is_ the spice of life."

Leah propped her chin on her hand after she chuckled and shook her head. "Don't come back to me when she becomes too much for you. I warned you. Now, when can I make an appointment to get this cast off my foot? I'm sick and tired of it."

"I am, too," said Trapper. "I hope you'll think twice before you kick something because you're angry," he said to Leah at the same time he took a red potato off her plate. She gave him a slightly miffed look and reached over, taking a broccoli spear off his.

After lunch Leah went her separate way back up to the executive suite, but before the end of the day, she was spreading her toes and stretching her foot free of the cast.


	76. Chapter 76

**Chapter Seventy-Six**

"Leah!" shouted Trapper from down the hall. She slowed down to let him catch up. "What's the hurry," he said, smiling and walking next to her.

"I have a training session with Frieda..." she looked at her watch. "…in five minutes, I have to get ready for the board meeting this afternoon, and I'm interviewing Calvin Keller today for a job.

"I haven't seen you all week. I thought we could have lunch together today."

"I can't today," she said, stopping in front of the elevator and pushing the up button. "I'll probably be eating at my desk. I've looked for you in your office a couple of times, but I was told you were in surgery."

"Yeah, it has been a busy week." The elevator door opened, and when Leah turned to step in, he pulled her back. "Wait. We have to plan some time together…even if we have to make an appointment."

"I'm sorry, Trapper. It can't be today," she said, tiptoeing and giving him a quick kiss. "Maybe this evening. I'll stop by your office," she said as the elevator door closed and she was whisked away.

Moving a hand to the metal frame of the elevator, he leaned and moved his other hand to his hip, scowling at the elevator door. His first thought was that her job was getting in the way of their romance, but then he snorted. His job was as much to blame. They would have to figure out how to tame their work schedules. Turning abruptly to head back to his office, he almost ran into Gonzo.

"Trapper, I was just looking for you. Do you have time to take a look at some x-rays? I'm getting ready to get tissue from a kidney donor to see if he's a match for a patient, but I see something suspicious on his x-ray."

"It seems work is the only thing I do have time for these days," Trapper answered sourly.

"Oh, well, later would be okay," said Gonzo apologetically.

Smiling, Trapper said, "No. Let's look now. I have a little time." As they walked down the hall to the x-ray room, Trapper asked, "How are things going with Frieda?"

"They're not. Anymore, at least."

Trapper opened the door and held it for Gonzo. "Oh? What happened?"

As Gonzo pushed the x-rays under the clamps on the light box, he answered, "I never thought I'd say this about anyone, but she's too much for me. So much that she found someone else to fill in the gaps. It's not that I mind the occasional other date, but she seems to find someone everyday…maybe even several times a day. I don't think I want to share that much biology with a bunch of other men." Grinning from ear to ear, Trapper stood in front of the light box, chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"Leah did warn you."

"She also said Frieda was looking for stability."

"No, that's what Frieda said. Leah said that wasn't possible. Maybe next time you should listen to her."

Gonzo flipped on the lights and both men looked up at the x-rays. "There won't be a next time…at least not with Frieda," said Gonzo, pointing to a dark spot on the film.

"Hard to tell," said Trapper, stepping closer. "It could be stone."

"I think I'll take the tissue from two spots; that one and a clear one."

"That's fine as long as you inform the donor. He didn't come for a biopsy. He came to give you a tissue sample for matching to the patient."

"What harm would it do if I just took the tissue?"

Looking at Gonzo over his glasses, Trapper said, "No harm, except that he could sue you for doing a biopsy without informing him." Moving to the door, Trapper opened it. Before he left, he turned and said, "Get his consent for a biopsy."

Frieda and Leah worked through lunch, eating sandwiches in Leah's office as they went through flow charts and program listings. "We have change requests stacking up for approval by the board, so you should have some good hands-on experience very soon," said Leah as Frieda gathered her paperwork, preparing to end the session.

"I hope so. Reading technical manuals and source code isn't my idea of a good time," she said, heading for the door.

"How are things going with Gonzo?"

Frieda stutter stepped before she came to stop at the door, hesitating when she turned around. "Well, they aren't…anymore. Gonzo is a nice guy, but he's not…how do I put this…spontaneous enough."

Moving her mouth to say 'oh', Leah ended up laughing the word. "What happened to stability?"

"I decided forty is still too young to start thinking about stability. Maybe forty-five. Off to the mines," she said, leaving just as Calvin Keller arrived.

"Ah, Mr. Keller, please come in. Let me move some of this paperwork out of the way," said Leah as she walked around the room picking up large graphs and charts and listings on burst paper that had been unfolded and spread across her desk and her table. "There," she said, taking a breath. "Please, have a seat." Smiling slightly, he sat down. Leah studied him for a moment before she said, "I understand if this is too soon."

"No, it's…" he sighed. "I don't think it will be any better for a long while, and I have to feed my family. I didn't get to thank you at the funeral for all you did. Your chaplain told us that you paid the bills for the crematory and the cemetery plot. I intend to pay you back."

"How about we get you settled in your new job and your family settled in a new home before we think about that," said Leah, smiling. "I was able to go over your resume and check your references and everything looks fine, so the job is yours. Mike Stanley will be your supervisor and will train you." She looked at her watch. "It's too late to get started today, so why don't we make tomorrow your first day. I'll want you on day shift to begin with, but once you learn the job, the shifts are rotational, so there will be times you'll be scheduled in the evenings and on the grave shift."

"That won't be a problem," Mr. Keller said with a smile.

"Here are the particulars of your position including your salary," she said, handing him a piece of paper.

"This is more than I expected, especially not knowing anything about the job," he said surprised.

"I don't think you'll have any trouble picking it up, and with your leadership experience, I think you'll be able to advance fairly quickly."

Folding the paper and putting it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket, he smiled. "I don't know how to thank you for all you've done for us. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Dr. McIntyre said that you're driven to this. May I ask why?" Leah smiled, took a deep breath and bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Looking back up, she sniffled. "No, it's alright. The pictures you see on the walls and shelves are of my family. They were all killed in a car accident a few years ago. I survived, but only because of a heart transplant."

Mr. Keller's eyes widened. "Oh, I am sorry. That's terrible. N-n-not that you survived, but that your family didn't. I understand now."

"I won't lie to you, Mr. Keller. It still hurts. It still hurts a lot. I don't think the pain will ever completely go away." Leaning forward, she looked him in the eye with certainty. "But it does get easier…as time moves on." He met her eyes and the two held each other's gaze for a long minute until he gave her a quick nod. "We have a counseling program here at the hospital. It's a free service. I encourage you and your family to take advantage of it."

"I'll talk to my wife about it. She's…well, it may take more time for her."

"How are the children?"

"They've been really upset, but we've started them in school, and with that and new friends, they seem to be bouncing back…better than their parents."

When Leah stood, so did Mr. Keller. "Give it time. You can't rush this. It has to happen the way it happens," she said, walking him to the door.

He nodded. "What time should I be here tomorrow morning?"

"Eight. Take the elevator to the basement and when you step off, go left. Mike will be at the desk on the raised floor."

"Raised floor?"

Chuckling, Leah replied, "You'll know it when you see it."


	77. Chapter 77

**Chapter Seventy-Seven **

Trapper hurriedly gathered all the paperwork spread it out on his desk; calculations, graphs, annotated cases. He knew he was going to be late for the board meeting, but he still had a smile on his face because he would be seeing Leah, even if it was only as part of the meeting…at first. The end of the meeting would signal the end of their day at the hospital…he hoped…and he planned to take Leah to dinner and dancing after which he would whisk her back to his house and introduce her to his bedroom properly.

With his paperwork stacked neatly, he tucked it under his arm and headed for the elevator, whistling a little tune and nodding as he passed by the nurse's station where Ernie and Gloria looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so happy on his way to a board meeting," said Gloria.

Ernie snickered. "It probably has something to do with our newest board member," she said, prompting a nod and a smile from Gloria.

"You know, I caught him a couple of days ago with a little black box in his hand, studying whatever it was inside. When he realized I was there, he snapped it shut and put it in his pocket," said Gloria.

"Really? He said he'd never do that again…that it costs too much."

"Maybe that's why he was looking at it so hard," laughed Gloria.

Trapper and Leah reached the door of the conference room at the same time, Leah with her arms full of folders, charts and graphs.

"You're late," admonished Trapper, waiting for her to take her last two steps, and then opening the door.

"What's your excuse?" she hotly whispered back. He shrugged and stepped aside to let her through the door, following in after her.

The only two chairs left were across the table from each other right in the middle of the eight board members already seated along the sides of the table with Arnold at the head.

"Glad you decided to join us," said Arnold, scowling.

"I apologize," said Leah, addressing the entire table. "I just got out of an interview."

Trapper set his arm full down on the table, and pulled out his chair to be seated. "My excuse isn't so noble. I was just putting the finishing touches on these charts. I'm anxious to get the board's approval to submit these requests for the grants we'll be discussing."

"First, Ms. Haverty has some change requests for our computer systems she'd like to discuss for approval. Ms. Haverty, you have the floor."

"Thank you, Mr. Slocum," she said with a charming smile. When she stood Trapper noticed her attire, a deep blue suit with a skirt…not slacks…a white shirt with a cross tie. Her hair was up on her head, though not pulled as tightly as she had when he first met her. She walked around the table setting handouts in front of each person. As she passed Trapper, he frowned and groaned at her stilettos. Stopping at the sound, she looked back to see the scowl on his face, narrowed her eyes and continued around the table.

Standing in front of her chair, she again addressed the table. "Ladies and gentlemen, you have in front of you all the requests I've received so far from the departments outlining changes or enhancements they would like to see made to the applications each of them use. Along with each request, you have a time and cost estimate for each of the modifications. In addition, you have a summary sheet ranking each change by severity and cost as well as the percentage of the data processing budget each one would consume. As you can see, this represents one quarter of the budget which is in line with our plan to perform quarterly releases for upgrades to the system."

There was a moment of silence as the board members studied the requests and summary. "Ms. Haverty, have you evaluated each request for necessity."

"Yes, Mr. Wainwright. When I asked for input from the departments, I asked them to submit those things that would make their departments more productive. I can't speak to how they determined that since each department performs some fairly unique tasks, and I'm not familiar with them all. However, for those that I sent back questions, I found the answers to be more than substantive. I don't feel any of these changes are frivolous. In fact, it's unusual for the first round of requests on a new system to be wasteful. That will come as the departments become more familiar with their applications, at which time, there will be some requests I won't even bring to the board for approval. There will eventually be some infrastructure enhancement requests as well as tuning requests coming from me as part of our quarterly releases that will be in competition for funds with the department requests, so this process will become more difficult. Since this is the first quarter, this one is fairly straight forward."

Mr. Wainwright smiled and nodded, having no idea what Leah had just said.

"Perhaps since this is the first round, we should approve these requests since they're within the planned budget," said Arnold, looking around the table at each nod. "As we move forward, Ms. Haverty, if we have competition for the budgeted funds, would it be possible for each department head to present his or her case and explain what advantages their requested enhancements will have?"

"As each one learns the process, it will become more beneficial to the board in making that decision. I will assist each one with time and cost estimates."

"Very good," said Arnold. "Let the record show that all the submitted department requests are approved."

Trapper was looking curiously at the stacks still sitting in front of Leah when the subject of federal grants came up. He quickly sat up in his chair.

"As you all know," began Arnold, "each year the federal government makes available a limited number of grants to medical institutions. The amount of each grant is not set, but rather is doled out from a lump sum approved by Congress. This year they will be handing out twenty-five million. Dr. McIntyre has been preparing a bid for part of that money. Dr. McIntyre."

"Thank you, Arnold. As I've been saying for over a year now, the hospital needs to update our equipment and our specialized knowledge. Newer technologies are available now, and we're being left behind compared to other hospitals in the area. I'm specifically talking about microvascular surgery, laser surgery and Magnetic Resonance Imaging or MRI. For microvascular surgery, we need no special equipment, but we need additional money to attract a competent, qualified group of surgeons as well as to begin a training program for our existing surgical staff. I'd also like to be on the ground floor of laser technology by opening the first Laser Surgery Center in Northern California to include research and education. We'll be in competition with UC Davis Medical Center in Sacramento, but they already have so many specialized centers and even though they are known as a teaching hospital, I think we have a good chance. Our target student will be established surgeons looking to advance their knowledge while UC Davis works mainly with graduate students and interns. Our other competition is Bay General and Sutter Medical Center, also in Sacramento.

The last piece of the package is the need for two MRI machines. I won't try to explain the technology behind them, but I will show you the difference in X-ray or CT scan films and what we'll see out of an MRI machine." Trapper passed films in both directions around the table, waited and watched the expressions on the faces of the board members. He knew the pictures would speak louder than anything he could say.

"Dr. McIntyre, will you be submitting all three under one grant proposal or doing separate proposals for each?" asked Mrs. Beauchamp.

"I'll be doing one proposal under the subject of technology updates."

"And will you be writing the grant or will you hire a grant writer?"

Trapper snorted. "Unfortunately, I don't have the budget for a grant writer. They're pricey."

"All right, if Dr. McIntyre is finished," said Arnold, raising his brows at Trapper and waiting for a response. Trapper nodded. "Ms. Haverty would like to present her grant bid for the board's approval."

Trapper turned and gave Leah a surprised, but hard look.

"Thank you again, Mr. Slocum. I realize it seems odd that I would be asking for a non-medical grant when the grant money is earmarked for medical institutions, however, we are quickly approaching a point where an upgrade of the hospital data storage technology will be necessary, especially with Dr. McIntyre's plans for expansion and improved services. We currently use sixteen inch reel tapes for long term data storage. We have two machines which use cartridge tape." She pulled a reel and a cartridge out of a large envelope and set them on the conference table, then rose and went to an easel, hanging a large chart and graph, referring to them as she continued to speak. "As you can see, the physical storage requirement for a cartridge tape is much less than for a reel tape. We also have a staff of technicians who do nothing but pull tapes from our tape library and mount them to satisfy data requests on the system. Because we are required by the federal government to retain certain data for ten years, we back up data every night, sending a copy to offsite storage, but we also keep copies in our own tape library for three years. In the nine months since the system was first brought online, fifty percent of the tape library capacity has been used. It's good news that the hospital has increased its patients, but it's bad news for our storage capacity, and if Dr. McIntyre is successful in his grant bid, our patient numbers could rise exponentially. What I'd like to propose is a silo and robot for storage. This type of storage is cutting edge technology, but would increase our onsite storage capacity by one thousand percent without any physical expansion. The silo and robot would be built in half the space of our current tape library and would handle storage and retrieval of up to ten thousand cartridge tapes. We would still require a small staff to load cartridges into the silo and maintain the robot, but it would drop our personnel in that area by seventy-five percent. In addition, we can begin to send our cartridge tapes to our offsite storage facility, thereby saving money because we would not require as much storage space."

"Ms. Haverty, would you please explain what you mean by a silo and a robot," said Arnold.

"Of course. A silo is exactly what it sounds like. It's a cylindrical structure in which a robot sits in the middle. The walls of the silo are slots where the cartridge tapes reside. When a data request requires data stored on a cartridge tape, the computer programming sends the location of the tape to the robot which spins inside the silo, locates the slot the tape occupies, pulls the tape from its slot, and then inserts the tape in one of many cartridge reader machines on the lower rings of the silo. Once the tape is no longer required, the robot will eject the tape from the machine and return it to its slot. The robot spins so fast that the entire process takes only a few seconds." She passed packages around the table. "These are the figures for the purchase and installation of the equipment and the application that comes with the equipment that will be integrated into our system. Also, you have the costs of cartridge versus reel tapes, in addition to the storage costs of each medium and the total savings by converting everything to cartridge tape."

As the board members quietly studied Leah's handouts, Mrs. Beauchamp asked, "And will you writing your grant application, Ms. Haverty?"

"No. I have a colleague who writes grants professionally and has agreed to help me…gratis, of course. I will also be taking some personal time off to go to Washington myself to lobby for this grant."

"Just a minute," said Trapper. "If we submit two grant applications, the likelihood that only one will be awarded is almost guaranteed. Increasing the storage capacity of our computer systems is putting the cart before the horse, isn't it?"

Leah stiffened, her back rigid. She cocked her neck, but stopped short of popping it. "Dr. McIntyre, the risk is the same on both fronts. If you are awarded your grant, the computer system will be unable to handle the extra patient load. There are generally twenty to twenty-five grants awarded, so it should be possible for each grant to stand on its own merit." She shrugged. "We're going to need to increase capacity soon anyway."

"Computer technology isn't the purpose of these grants," he countered, scowling.

Smiling spitefully, she replied, "The grants can be for anything needed by any medical institution. That isn't just hospitals. It includes research facilities, teaching facilities and infrastructure."

Leaning forward and clasping his hands on the conference table, Arnold breathed deeply. "It appears to me both grant applications have merit and would only complement each other if both win. So, we'll vote on each grant individually and both grants by a show of hands. All those in favor of only Dr. McIntyre's grant application, please raise your hand. All those in favor of just Ms. Haverty's. And all those in favor of both." Everyone raised their hand for the last option.

"Dr. McIntyre, Ms. Haverty, we wish both of you the best of luck. I believe that concludes today's business. Is there a motion to adjourn." Mr. James raised a finger and nodded. "This meeting is adjourned."

As Leah collected her handouts and papers, the room cleared except for Trapper who sat back in his chair, glaring at her. "Do you honestly think a robot is more important than a new laser center or an MRI machine? This _is_ a hospital where our priority is healing the sick."

"I can't agree with you more," she said, stacking her collection of paperwork neatly in front of her. "However with that responsibility comes the government's oversight requirements. Without one, you can't have the other, so they have to go hand-in-hand. That makes both important."

"Leah, I don't have the time to go to Washington to lobby for this grant. I have patients."

"Then hire someone to lobby for you."

"I don't have the budget," he snapped.

"Dr. McIntyre, you are the Chief of Surgery of this hospital. Surely you have the authority to delegate. Aren't there other doctors who can take care of your patients while you're gone? Dr. Gates, maybe? It seems to me if you really wanted to win this grant, you'd be more willing to do what it takes to win it."

"My patients depend on me; not someone else," he said, rising from his chair and leaning over the table toward her.

"Perhaps you should think about the greater good," she said coldly as she passed him on her way to the door.

"What about dinner?" he said, spinning around.

She stopped as she opened the door and looked back. "I don't think I want to spend the evening with a man who's angry with me." Before Trapper could respond, she was gone.

Gathering all his paperwork, he left the conference room and barely made it to the elevator before the door closed. Both were silent as they rode the elevator down until it stopped at the fourth floor for Trapper's office.

When the door opened, Gonzo was there. "I'm glad I ran into you two. I thought we could all go to the Titanic for a glass of wine before you leave for dinner.

"No, thank you," came the biting reply in unison after which Trapper continued to his office, the elevator door closed, and Leah continued home. Gonzo stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the closed door for a moment before he shrugged and pushed the down button.


	78. Chapter 78

**Chapter Seventy-Eight**

Trapper gathered all the work he needed to review, placing everything that would fit in his satchel and carrying the rest under his arm. On his way to his car, Gonzo stopped him in the parking lot. "You sure you don't want to come over for a drink? It might help your mood."

Shaking his head, Trapper walked on, but slowed and hung his head. "Let me just put this stuff in my car."

Once both men were settled in the lounge chairs on the roof of the Titanic with filled wine glasses in their clutches, Gonzo asked, "What happened in the board meeting today?"

Swirling his wine, rather than drinking it, Trapper replied, "It's time for grants."

"What'd you ask for?"

"Microvascular surgery, a laser center and two MRI machines."

"That's all the newest technology," said Gonzo, nodding. "We need that stuff. Don't tell me they voted them down."

Trapper scowled as he took a sip of wine. "No, they didn't. But they also approved a second grant application for computer infrastructure."

"That Leah submitted."

"Mm hm."

"So you two will be in competition with each other."

"Yep. And they thought that was fine. Chances are better now that we won't get either one, and Leah believes her needs are equally important as ours. She won't back down."

Nodding, Gonzo considered what Trapper said and took a bite of a finger sandwich, offering the tray to Trapper who shook his head.

"It gets worse. She has a professional grant writer writing her application."

"Ouch."

Trapper downed the rest of his wine. "That's an understatement. I don't have the budget for a professional grant writer."

"She does?"

"No, it's a friend doing it as a personal favor."

"Are you submitting one application for all three?" Trapper nodded as Gonzo poured more wine into his glass. "Why don't you do one application for all four? If she convinced the board that both are equally important, why not? Then this friend of hers can write the whole thing."

Trapper cut his eyes toward Gonzo, sitting in quiet contemplation. He stood, finishing his wine and setting his glass on the small table between the lounges.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go home and think about it," he answered, taking a sandwich from the tray on the table and eating it on his way to the ladder. "See you Monday."

Slamming her armload down on the breakfast bar, Leah growled at her reflection in the glass doors of the upper kitchen cabinets. "Why do you let him do that to you?" she said, angrily jabbing her finger at the glass. Taking the cordless phone off the base, she headed toward the bathroom to change clothes. "Angela, this is Leah. I have permission from the board to submit the grant application. When can you start?"

"You wanted to be in Washington in two weeks, right?"

"Yep."

"Then we needed to get started days ago. Can I call you tomorrow and get the information from you?"

"Yes, of course. Why don't we say around ten…that's seven your time?"

"Perfect. Talk to you then."

As she spoke on the phone she kicked her high-heels into the closet and let her jacket drop off her arms. After hanging her clothes, she picked out a white caftan, but before she slipped into it, she stopped and looked at the bathtub. "A warm bubble bath will do you good, Leah. But get a glass of wine first." Soon she was sinking into the warm water beneath a thick layer of bubbles.

Trapper sat at his dining room table picking at his dinner. _Why don't you just call her and talk to her? _ "Because she probably won't even pick up the phone. And even if she does, she'll likely hang up when she hears my voice." _Then why don't you go over? _ Looking at the empty chair at the opposite side of the table, he pushed his lower lip up and nodded at first, but then slightly shook his head. "I don't want to start a yelling match. Better to let her cool off." _You know, you _could _stop her yelling very easily. _A crooked smile appeared followed by a snort. "I suppose I could, but I don't want her to feel like she's been handled…by me, anyway. I'll go tomorrow morning. She'll have cooled off by then." Standing, he picked up his plate and took it to the kitchen, then turned all the downstairs lights off and climbed the stairs to his bedroom.

Leah stood at the breakfast bar with her charts and graphs spread out before her, taking notes. When the phone rang, she didn't look, but rather felt for it. "Hello."

"Leah, Angela."

"Hey, I've just been making some notes so this will go quicker. Where do we start?"

"Give me the list of what you're asking for and the cost first. After that, we'll go over necessity and then savings. Did the board approve your doctor friend's application?"

"Yes, why?"

There was silence on the phone for a moment before Angela spoke. "It's rare that two grants are awarded to the same institution. One of you will automatically be knocked out of the competition. It will just depend on who gets reviewed first…if either one of you gets approved."

"So if he wins, I lose, and if I win, he loses. There's no way around that?"

"Only one. Combine your applications."

Leah stopped writing and dropped her pencil just as she heard a buzzing sound behind her. "What? Hang on a minute. Someone's at the gate." Turning to look at the security monitor, she swore and hit the button. "Not today, Trapper. I'm working." She released the button before he had a chance to respond and turned back around to her paperwork. "Would you please explain that last remark?" she said into the phone, but turned around quickly when she heard the signal that the security code had been entered and the gate had opened.

"You heard me, Leah. You'll have a better chance if you combine your applications. It will be looked at as complimentary instead opposing work."

Trapper appeared outside the sliding glass door with his copy of her keys dangling from his hand.

"Angela, I need to put the phone down for a minute. There's someone at the door."

When she opened it, she started to object, but he stepped in, backing her up. Before she could say anything, he moved his hands to either side of her face and kissed her open mouth despite her sputtering. She tried to push away, but he moved his arms around her, holding her tightly against him as he continued a deep, long kiss. She slowly stopped protesting and relaxed, allowing Trapper to finish the kiss slowly and tenderly. Before he let her go, he remained nose to nose with her, his eyes closed, his lips so close to hers she could feel their touch as he spoke. "Disagreements about work need to stay at the hospital," he said softly, looking into her eyes and holding her gaze until she released a deep, surrendering breath.

Bowing her head, she patted his chest, and then backed away, eventually turning and going back to the phone. "Angela, I'm going to put you on speakerphone. Dr. McIntyre is here." After she pushed the speaker button and set the cordless phone on the base, she asked, "Would you repeat that last part again so he can hear it?"

"You'll both have a better chance if you combine your applications into one. They'll complement each other."

"How do you want to do this?" Leah asked.

"Let's finish yours, and then I'll get the same type of information from Dr. McIntyre."

For the next two hours, the three discussed the content of the grant application, finally getting down to very specific reasons why the requested computer enhancements would be necessary to support the new medical technology.

Near the end of the conference call, Leah asked, "Angela, do you have room for two? I don't know enough about the medical technology to sell it, so Trapper will have to come with me and do some lobbying."

"I don't know if I'll have the time to take off. It'll depend on my patients," protested Trapper.

"Dr. McIntyre, may I call you Trapper?"

"I wish you would."

"You have virtually no chance of getting this grant if you're not willing to lobby for it. Every one of the other grant applicants will be in Washington selling their requests. You need to be there."

"I don't remember the process being this ruthless."

"There's never been this much free money being handed out," said Angela.

He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll go."

"Good. And I have plenty of room for you both. I assume you'll still only need one bedroom?"

"I…uh…"

Smiling, Leah interrupted Trapper's speechlessness. "It's all right, Trapper. She knows all about you."

"I see," he said, clearing his throat.

"All right. I need to get to work on these. I'll call you in a few days and let you know my progress."

"Thanks, Angela." Leah hit the speaker button. Turning to Trapper with her hands on her hips, she bit, "Just what do you mean letting yourself in when I told you 'no?'"

"Nice caftan. I can almost see right through it," he said, smiling and moving his hands towards her hips.

She puckered her mouth and furrowed her brow, crossing her arms over her breasts and turning her upper body.

Arching an eyebrow, he said, "I can still see the golden triangle."

Her jaw dropped as she put a hand on his chest and pushed. "You're fresh."

"Enough of this," he said, laughing, moving his arms around her and holding her until she gave in. "Now, pack some clothes. We're staying at my house this weekend."

"But I have things to do," she objected.

"You are not working anymore this weekend. There's a sidewalk art and antique fair downtown today and tomorrow. We're going. Now, go get dressed and pack a bag," he said, gently pushing her toward her bathroom and smacking her backside.

She jumped and yelped, looking back at him with an exasperated look as she continued on to her bathroom, rubbing the offended cheek.


	79. Chapter 79

**Chapter Seventy-Nine**

Strolling down the middle of Beach Street arm in arm between the vendor tents lined up on each side of the street, Trapper and Leah perused the wares on either side of them. At least, Trapper did. Leah was somewhere else.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"Hm? I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"Look, if you don't want to do this, we can do something else."

She smiled and bowed her head. "No, this is fine. I just can't help but wonder what's going to pit us against each other next at the hospital."

Stopping abruptly, he moved his arms around her waist. "Nothing, if we don't allow it. Now, we aren't supposed to be thinking about work."

"One more thing first." She tiptoed and pressed her lips into his.

With his mouth turned up on one side, looking from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes, he asked softly. "What was that for?"

"That was an apology. I didn't even think about sharing Angela with you."

Bending his head down, he kissed her back, then quickly tightened his arms around her, kissing her deeply, passionately.

"Trapper," she said, out of breath. "People are staring."

"I don't care," he said, smiling and continuing his kiss until he found her hand. Looking into her eyes, he took a satisfied breath, and then turned and held her hand as they walked on down the street.

"Is there something particular you're looking for today?"

"Mm hm."

"Care to share."

"That's a little hard. I have a Qing dynasty vase and a few smaller pieces from the same period, but they look lonely in their corner. I need something large to put behind them…to set them off."

"Did you come up with that yourself, or did a decorator-type tell you that?"

Laughing, he said, "Something somewhere in between." Passing his hand around at the wares in front of them, he asked, "And would you by chance be looking for something…different?"

"Oh, no," she chuckled. "You seem to forget I have a huge storage space full of stuff." She stopped and looked away thoughtfully. "From a lifetime ago." Quickly turning back, she added, "Some of it is worth a pretty penny. You should take a look at it. There might be something you could use."

"I don't know about that. I don't want to make you uncomfortable in my home. Something from your past might dredge up…memories."

"You're the one who said memories aren't necessarily a bad thing."

"I did. Over time. And in small doses." He moved his hand to the small of her back and guided her into a shop that specialized in Asian baubles, statues and furniture.

Each took a different route through the store, bending, ducking or tiptoeing to look at items without touching. The prices tags were rather hefty. Finally Leah stopped in front of a five panel screen. The frame was dark wood, she thought maybe mahogany, and the screens were a hard red material with images carved in different semi-precious stones. She looked closely at it before she slowly backed away, and sucked in a breath when she bumped into someone.

"That's quite a piece," said Trapper.

Inhaling deeply to catch her breath after her startle, she eventually said, "It's…bright…and unusual. I mean, look at the detail of the carvings. And what is this red stuff? It's looks hard."

Gently taking her hand before she touched the material, he answered, "It's cinnabar lacquer."

"Cinnabar? Isn't that mercury?"

"That's why the sign says 'Look, but don't touch,'" he said, nodding toward a plaque sitting on a table next to the screen.

"And they can sell it?"

"It's not harmful unless you touch it with bare skin. You have to wear gloves to handle cinnabar." He moved closer, looking at the carvings and pointing. "These are jade…coral…rosewood…ivory and tortoise shell. It's mid-to-late 18th century." Crossing his arms, he propped his chin in his hand. "The color would fade in light, and the cinnabar would deteriorate. That's why it's back here away from the windows." He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "That corner is pretty dark. Even so, the red would brighten it, and the other pieces are light, so they'd stand out against the red."

"You're not seriously thinking about this are you? It's mercury," she said skeptically.

"I don't plan on making a habit of touching it."

She gingerly turned the price tag. "Well, that might change your mind," she said, leaning toward him, slowly turning and walking to the other side of the store. By the time she turned to look back, the Asian man who had been standing behind the counter had moved next to Trapper, both men speaking in hushed whispers. Shaking her head, she continued to browse, but after another five minutes had passed, she turned and looked for him again. She found him standing at the counter. Her eyebrows went up when she saw him pull out his checkbook.

When he turned, he stopped and looked at her with an amused expression before he went to her. "Find anything you like?" he asked.

"Lots…but not enough to take out my checkbook. Did you buy the screen?"

"Yep," he said, guiding her out the door.

"Just tell me if it's none of my business, but did you pay the price on the tag?"

"First rule of purchasing antiquities from a store…never pay full price. I've been looking at that screen for a long time, and he knew it. And when I saw you were drawn to it, you confirmed what I already thought about it."

She dropped her forehead into her hand, then with a flourish and a smile said, "Glad I could help."

"Are you hungry?" he asked, receiving a nod. "Then how 'bout we walk down to Boudins for clam chowder."

"In a bread bowl," she added, smiling sweetly up at him as they walked back down the street the way they had come with their arms around each other's waist.

A din ensued as Trapper and Leah joked and laughed while pushing through the front door of Trapper's house, their arms laden with brown paper bags that held their dinner along with a few items for breakfast.

In the kitchen, after the bags were unloaded, Trapper pulled Leah into him, looking down at her contentedly.

"I had a wonderful day," she said softly.

"I did, too," he replied on his way to a kiss. "Now, it's surf and turf for dinner. I'll grill the steaks and lobster."

"And I'll prepare the salad and dressing, and after that, I'll warm the bread."

The rest of the evening, they talked about the grant, Angela, and finally their trip to Washington. "Have you ever lobbied before?" asked Trapper.

"Yes, several times. I even lobbied for a grant for lights on the soccer field where the kids played so they could play at night."

"Did you win?"

"Well, it took several tries, but in the end, yes. And not only did we get the lights, we were able to get money for a big, electronic scoreboard and a concession stand."

"Have you ever lobbied for computer infrastructure?" he asked loudly with raised eyebrows as he tended the grill on the back porch.

She stopped chopping and winced. "No. But basically what you do is talk," she said just as loud, waving the knife in the air before she resumed her salad preparations. "I have no problems talking in general, and I have no problems talking endlessly about my computer needs. You, on the other hand, can sometimes be a man of few words." He came in, standing behind her and moving his arms around her as she continued making the salad. She lowered her voice. "You can't be that way when you're in Washington. You have to be very knowledgeable about what you want, and you have to get almost pushy. You have to make them listen to you."

As he nuzzled her neck, she asked, "How are the steaks and lobster tails? The salad is almost ready."

"The steaks need a few more minutes," he said, giving her one last nibble on her ear lobe before he let her go. "I'll set the table."

After dinner, they sat on the sofa sipping wine while they considered the corner where the screen Trapper had purchased earlier in the day would eventually sit. "I didn't remember that your pieces are made of the same stone as the carvings on the screen. It makes better sense now, and I think the screen will go very well in that corner. But will artificial light affect the screen?" she asked, looking up at the subtle spotlight that shone down on the Qing dynasty vase.

"The spotlight will have to go." He reached over for her wine glass, moving it to the table next to the sofa. "So does this."

She objected teasingly when he leaned into her. "But I wasn't finished."

"Your doctor says you've had enough wine," he said, slowly moving a hand around her mid-section to her back, his other arm wrapped around her shoulders, bringing her into him as he stifled a protest with his mouth.

As he took a breath before he continued, she managed to get out what she had been trying to say before he stopped her again. "You're not my doctor, Doctor Mc..."

Standing, he held out his hand.

"Where we going?" she said, biting her lip.

"Upstairs," he replied in a deep husky voice, his eyes boring into hers.

For some reason she suddenly shivered. Dropping her eyes, she felt a blush rising, and chuckled at it. "Sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"Maybe it's because you've never spent the night with me in my house?"

"I've spent the night in your house, _and_ I've slept in your bed," she said, taking his hand and moving to the stairs.

"That's all true," he said, falling in behind her as they climbed the stairs. "The operative words here are 'with me'".


	80. Chapter 80

**Chapter Eighty**

To Leah, it seemed as if she had just fallen to sleep when she felt his lips on her bare shoulder and his hands…. A faint smile appeared across her lips. What wonderful, gentle hands. How could a man possibly know the rapturous delight those tender touches, those feather-light traces over her skin could evoke? When she rolled into him their lips met, their arms held each other tightly as their legs tangled together.

"Good morning," he said in a low, velvety voice.

With her eyes still closed, she answered sleepily. "It can't be morning."

Chuckling, he rubbed her nose with his. "It is. Open your eyes."

She leaned her head back, stretched and yawned, then snuggled back into him, tracing a line down his lips and chin with her forefinger. "Hasn't anyone ever explained to you that you're not twenty-five anymore? I'm not either. If you keep this up, you'll break both of us."

Moving his head back, his mouth opened in disbelief. "Are you…complaining?" An eyebrow arched.

"Do not misconstrue veneration for complaint. The truth is I'm amazed at your seemingly infinite prowess and dexterity."

After one more tight hug and long kiss, Trapper asked, "Shouldn't we be getting out of this bed?"

"Can't we stay here for a little while longer? We don't have any set plans today, do we?"

"That's all right by me if you're up for it."

"I should be asking you that question," she replied, giggling as he rolled into her with a voracious smile.

"So what did you two end up doing this weekend," asked Gonzo as he opened his milk carton. Trapper and Leah set their breakfast trays down on the table in the hospital cafeteria considering the question an invitation.

"We went to a sidewalk art and antique fair Saturday, and we got some exercise Sunday," Leah said, winking at Trapper.

Gonzo looked up with a wounded frown. "What kind of exercise? Did you go running without me?"

"It was more like a marathon," answered Trapper just before he filled his mouth with eggs. He looked at Gonzo, chewing, and then moved his eyes back to Leah trying to stifle a smile and chew at the same time.

Leah stirred a bowl of oatmeal, glancing up at Gonzo. "You should see the Japanese screen Trapper bought. It's beautiful. It's made out of cinnabar."

"What? You bought cinnabar?" asked Gonzo, turning back to Trapper.

"It's not a set of tea cups. It's a screen. No one's going to be touching it. What'd you do this weekend?" asked Trapper as he bit into a piece of toast.

"As if you didn't know, I had a shift to cover both days, so I was here."

"Anything interesting happen?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact it did. I have a Korean woman with muscle weakness, shortness of breath and difficulty swallowing."

"Neurological?"

"I did a CBC and sent some spinal fluid to the lab. It could be a stroke. She's pretty old. We're checking for Guillain–Barré and myasthenia gravis, too."

Looking at his watch, Trapper said, "I have to get going." He wiped his mouth, dropped his napkin on his plate and stood.

"I do, too. I have another call with Angela today, and I've got to get her the ten-year savings numbers. Trapper, do you want to listen in?" He nodded. "Come up at two then."

Before Trapper turned to go, he said, "Gonzo, let me know how those tests go."

"I will," he said, louder than normal since Trapper had already turned to walk away. Looking up at Leah, he said, "I really wish you'd called me. A run would have been a nice break."

She stood and picked up her tray. "Who said anything about running?"

"Trapper said something about a marathon."

"Yes, he did, didn't he," she said, smiling mischievously as she left the table.

Gonzo knocked, but didn't wait for an answer as he entered Trapper's office. Trapper glanced up over his glasses, but continued writing and asked, "You have some test results?"

"Yeah. It's not an autoimmune problem," answered Gonzo, reaching for his newly beeping pager. Moving to the side of the desk, he picked up Trapper's phone. "This is Dr. Gates. All right. I'll be right there. Call the nurse's station on that floor and ask them to get a ventilator in that room." Hanging up the phone, he said, "Our Korean patient is in respiratory distress. Care to join me?"

Trapper dropped his pen and rose. "After you," he said, motioning to the door.

When they entered the room, the bed had already been raised, and Jackpot had already started a tube. As he worked, he spoke. "She stopped breathing, so I went ahead and started without you."

"All right, keep going," said Gonzo. "We'll get her stabilized, and then we'll figure out what's next."

Gloria ran into the room. "I need one of you in the waiting room. Her husband just collapsed on the floor."

"Jackson, you got this?" asked Gonzo.

"Yeah, go," he replied.

Trapper had already left, but Gonzo was on his heels. The man was on his side on the floor, so Trapper turned him to his back, and flashed a light across his eyes. "Pupils are unresponsive, respiration shallow. You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, glancing up at Gonzo.

"Yeah, whatever this is, it's environmental."

"Gloria, find a room and order a CBC." Trapper stood and looked around. "Is this stuff his?" he asked, pointing to a table near where the man lay.

"I think so. He was eating something," said Gloria.

Picking up a container from the table and smelling it, Trapper wrinkled his nose. "Gloria, tell the lab to look for clostridium botulinum. And then send a fluid sample from his wife and tell them to look for the same thing."

"What is it?" asked Gonzo, nodding to the container.

Trapper exhaled and frowned. "Looks and smells like kimchi. Probably homemade." Taking a deep breath, he twisted his mouth in antipathy. "We have to call the CDC. I'll go talk to Arnold," he said, closing the container and heading for the elevator. "He's not going to be happy about the CDC crawling all over his hospital. For that matter, neither am I."


	81. Chapter 81

**Chapter Eighty-One**

"Are you sure?" Arnold snapped from behind his desk.

"The test results aren't back yet, but I'm pretty sure it's botulism," said Trapper, trying to sound calm. There was no point in Arnold seeing him aggravated. It would only set him off worse than he already was. "The husband was eating kimchi when he collapsed. From the looks of it, homemade."

"What the devil is kimchi?"

"It's cabbage and hot spices that's allowed to ferment. It's a Korean staple. Most of the time, it's not cooked, so without careful preparation, it can easily breed bacteria."

Arnold grimaced. "Have we confirmed it was homemade? I'd hate to think it's been served to the public."

Taking a deep breath, Trapper rubbed his forehead. "No, neither patient is conscious. We've had to intubate the woman." At that moment, Trapper's pager went off. "May I?" he asked, motioning toward the phone.

"Of course," Arnold said, flipping through a rolodex on his desk. "I'll call myself. I don't want the entire staff to know the CDC might be coming here. This could destroy our budget if it gets out."

"This is Dr. McIntyre," said Trapper into the phone. "Budget? I'd think that would be the least of your worries. Yes, I'll hold. They're transferring me to Stanley."

"If the public gets wind of a contagion here, even if it's food borne, they won't come here for care until the CDC pronounces the condition is clear."

"Stanley, Trapper."

"John, Gloria told me you ordered some tests for botulism. I think we have two cases in emergency. They present with the correct symptoms."

"Are either conscious?"

"Yes, but I don't know that they'll be for long. If you want to talk to them, you'd better get down here now."

"I'm on my way. Arnold," said Trapper, hanging up the phone and heading for the door. "We've got two more possible cases in emergency. I'll let you know."

Leah was so engrossed in her schematics that she didn't look up when someone knocked on her door and stepped in until she heard them clear their throat. "Speak," she said without looking up.

"You really haven't changed, have you?"

"No, not really. Not when it comes to work. What can I do for you, Frieda?"

Frieda chuckled nervously. "I think I might have a little problem that I thought…maybe…you could help with."

"What kind of problem?" asked Leah, taking a ruler and drawing a set of lines on the diagram.

She didn't see, but Frieda was wringing her hands as she stepped forward. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

Twisting her mouth, Leah stopped drawing, carefully set the ruler to the side, and then looked up. "Whatever this problem is, it isn't good, is it?"

"No. But it has nothing to do with work…per se."

Bringing her fist up to her mouth, Leah looked at Frieda sideways. "Spill it."

"I've tested positive for…gonorrhea."

Leah folded one hand over the other and dropped her chin on them. "How many partners have you had?"

"Oh, eight, nine…twelve."

"All here?" asked Leah angrily.

"Where else? I don't know anyone in this city but the people in this hospital."

"You realize that because I'm a member of the board here, I have to report this, don't you."

"I was hoping we could keep this between ourselves…and of course, the men involved."

"Have you told them yet?"

"Well, no. That's why I wanted to talk to you. You see, it might go easier if you asked Trapper, and then Trapper could tell them. They respect him, and coming from a man, maybe it wouldn't be so embarrassing. Anyway, one of them gave it to me, so it's better to catch the real culprit that way, isn't it?"

Leah was already shaking her head. "That one man isn't the one who spread it to eleven other men. Oh no. Gonzo, too. And then whoever he's been with. Frieda, do you realize how big your little problem could be? Did any of these men have wives?"

"I'll understand if you want my resignation. I'm sure it would be awkward for everyone if I stayed. But then, you made me sign a contract."

"Frieda, I expect all my people to act professionally in this hospital…at all times." She took a deep, calming breath that didn't see to calm her much. "Yes, I would like your resignation. I'll let you out of your contract. Under the circumstances, I don't think it's fair that you stay given the men you slept with have probably been here longer than you have. Can you, at least, give me their names?"

"Yes. Here's a list. That's all but two."

"What do you mean 'all but two'"? Leah asked angrily.

"I…I didn't get their names."

"That does me no good. If we don't know who all of them are, every male in this hospital will have to be notified to get checked, and everyone they've been in contact with will have to be notified as well. And it goes on and on. Do you have any idea just how bad this can get? I don't think you'll want to stay here anyway. All the men in this hospital will think you're a nasty…"

"Okay, I get it," said Frieda defensively, holding her hands up. Can you give me an hour? I need to collect my things. I'll call you with a forwarding address to send my last check." She rose to leave, but turned back. "I hope I haven't disappointed you too much."

Glaring at her, Leah measured her delivery. "You have no idea. No i-dea. I was counting on you."

Bowing her head, she muttered, "I'm sorry," before she left the office.

Leah exhaled, turning her chair around and facing the wall with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. This was all going to fall in her lap. She's the one that brought Frieda in. Taking one more breath, she said, "Well Leah, just get it over with," as she stood, leaving her office and heading for the elevator. When she stepped out, she head directly for Trapper's office, but Ernie stopped her.

"He's not there."

"Oh. Where is he?"

"Emergency. Seems there's an epidemic going on at the moment."

"Huh?" said Leah, apprehensively.

"Mm hm. We have two people up here, and now there's two more in emergency."

Creasing her brow, she said faintly, "Oh no."

"Don't worry," said Ernie, chuckling. "There's no way you could be infected."

Leah snorted, "Yeah, right. Uh…I'll just go down to emergency."

When she boarded the elevator, she leaned against the back wall and closed her eyes. "This can't be happening." Outside the elevator, things looked normal. Gloria was at the nurse's station doing paperwork, and Jackpot was reviewing some charts. "Gloria, can you tell me where Trapper is? Ernie said he's down here."

"He's with a patient at the moment."

"Okay. I'll wait," said Leah with a worried look.

"Is everything alright?" asked Gloria.

"There's an epidemic, isn't there?"

"Well yes, but don't worry about Trapper. He's not at any risk."

"No, I'd think not. I'll just wait over here," she said, pointing across the hallway.

Stanley handed Trapper a chart. "This is Mr. Liang. As you can see, his blood pressure is elevated. He's complaining of severe nausea and tightening in his throat. I've already ordered a complete blood count."

Trapper finished reading the chart. "Have the lab check his fluids for botulism as well." Stepping to the side of the bed, he said, "Mr. Liang, I'm Dr. McIntyre. We're going to be doing some further tests to find out what's going on. Have you by chance eaten anywhere you don't normally eat recently?"

With his eyes closed, Mr. Liang said, "Namkoong's Kitchen."

"Is that a restaurant?" The man nodded. "Stanley, let me know when the test results are back, and find out if the other patient you have down here ate at Namkoong's Kitchen."

As he rounded the corner at the nurse's station, Gloria stopped him. "Trapper?" she said, pointing to Leah leaning against the wall further down the hall.

"Thanks, Gloria. Leah?"

"Trapper, what happened to your patient?"

"He'll be fine, but we apparently do have an epidemic on our hands."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Trapper," called Dr. Riverside. "Just as you suspected. They ate at the same restaurant," said Stanley on his way down the hall."

"Restaurant?" asked Leah.

"Yes, seems the four we know about got it in a restaurant."

Leah's grimaced. "In a restaurant. That's just… It's worse than I thought."

"Me, too. I thought it was limited to just the two people upstairs, but this thing could be widespread."

"We have to call the CDC."

"Arnold's already aware of the problem. He's probably on the phone with them now."

"Arnold? H-how does Arnold know?"

"Well, I told him, of course. Let's get out of this hall," he said, taking her arm and guiding her to the elevator.

Once in the elevator, she asked. "How did you find out?"

"Gonzo has two patients upstairs he asked me to look at. They presented with neurological signs."

"Oh. I didn't know it could get that bad."

"Those are the standard symptoms…lethargy, problems swallowing, muscle weakness."

"Really. I had no idea," she said as they stepped out of the elevator toward his office.

"Yes, and now we know the source."

"You do? Did Frieda say something on her way out?"

"Frieda?" Trapper asked, looking confused.

"Yes, well, she's the one who spread it."

Trapper narrowed his eyes as he closed his door behind her and walked over to his desk. "How could Frieda have started it?"

"Come on, Trapper," she said, rolling her eyes. "Gonzo told you she was too prolific for even him."

He laughed. "What does Frieda's promiscuity have to do with a botulism epidemic?"

"Botulism? Oh. I thought…oh. Maybe you'd better sit down."


	82. Chapter 82

**Chapter Eighty-Two**

Trapper slowly sank into his chair, biting the inside of his cheek and giving Leah a perplexed look.

"Um…how do I say this?" mused Leah. He raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "We have another possible epidemic."

"Of what?" he asked rather sharply.

She cringed. "Gonorrhea."

"What! In my hospital!" he said, coming out of his chair.

She took a step back away from the desk and attempted a smile, but failed miserably. "Gonzo might be infected," she said quietly.

"Oh no. I'm not telling him. You brought her here. You tell him."

"It's not just Gonzo. She said she was with at least twelve men here. And she doesn't know all their names."

Trapper nostrils flared. "Where is she?"

"She's gone. She resigned. And I let her."

He studied her as she stood biting her lip, unable to look him in the eye, her fingers fidgeting. This certainly wasn't the formidable woman he knew her to be. "Leah, why are you cowering?" he said quietly.

"I'm not cowering…really. You're yelling."

"I'm not…" he yelled, stopping before he said the word, realizing that he had, indeed, raised his voice. He cocked his head and smiled sarcastically. "If you're not cowering what would you call it?"

"I think I'll leave this one in your office with you, never mind the rest of the hospital," she said turning toward the door.

Shaking his head, he took his glasses off and set them on the desk. "I'm sorry, Leah," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't your fault. It's Frieda's. It's just come at a bad time…two infections at once."

"I think it would be better if you notified the male staff, and that means all the male staff. She didn't limit herself to doctors. I think there were some lab technicians, and maybe an orderly or two involved. I'll tell Gonzo."

Walking around the desk, he hugged her. "I'll take care of it. But you're right. We have to report this to the CDC because of the potential of spreading."

"I feel awful, Trapper. I did bring her here. But she swears she was clean. She claims she got it from someone here."

"Has she been treated?" Leah nodded. "Look, I have to go back to my office. I have a conference call with Angela in a few minutes. Are you going to be able to come up?"

"I'll go up with you now. I have to tell Arnold about the second infection anyway. I'll have a staff meeting with the department heads after the call, and they can inform their staff." On the way up in the elevator, Trapper asked, "Are you coming home with me tonight?"

"Well, no. I need to go home and pack. And so do you."

"It'll be easier if you come over after you pack. Then we can get a cab together tomorrow morning from my house to the airport."

Stepping into his side, she gently pinched him. "Why don't you come over to my place after _you_ pack?"

He moved his arm over her shoulders and smiled down at her. "Because my house is closer to the airport."

"Oh," she said smiling as the elevator began to slow. She stepped forward and punched the stop button, then turned back into him, looking up to his face. "I'm sorry. I know this makes things difficult for you."

Bending, he kissed her lips, lingering and kissing her again as he reached beyond her and disengaged the stop button. "Stop apologizing. I'm leaving with you tomorrow. Someone else is going to be handling this."

Arnold groaned as he held his head in his hands. "Two infections at the same time? In my hospital!"

"Relax, Arnold. I'll put Stanley in charge of taking names and testing everyone who needs to be tested. That way, anyone outside the hospital who might be infected can go straight to the emergency room. It'll probably all be done before someone from the CDC even gets to it. They'll be more interested in the botulism."

Arnold looked up from his hands. "And what did you find out about that?"

"The two patients in emergency have the right symptoms, and they both ate at the same restaurant. But we don't have any of the tests back to confirm botulism yet," answered Trapper as he sat in the chair in front of Arnold's desk and casually crossed his legs.

"How do you know it was from this…kimchi?"

"I've had my share of kimchi…authentic kimchi…while I was in Korea. The kimchi our second patient was eating smelled of rot."

Arnold snorted. "Of course it did. It's fermented."

"No, there's a distinct difference in the smell…the older the kimchi the more sour it smells, but this smelled like decomp…as if it was never fermented. I honestly don't know how he was eating it. There was something else in that dish, too; not just the kimchi."

Trapper's pager went off. Pointing to the phone, he asked, "May I?" Arnold waved his hand. "This is Dr. McIntyre. All right. Thank you." Pressing the switch button, he dialed a number. "Ernie, what's the verdict?"

"The tests came back positive from all of our patients. It also came back positive from the food you took down to the lab."

"I'll need a printout of exactly what was in that container."

"I'll tell them."

"Thanks, Ernie. Arnold, we need to contact the health department, and let them know we've already contacted the CDC to be on standby."

"What are we going to tell the health department? We don't know where to send them."

"Yes, we do. Namkoong's Kitchen. I'll be in Leah's office if you need me."

When Trapper tapped on the door of Leah's office and stuck his head in, she was already on the phone with Angela. She waved him in and pointed to her watch. "Angela, you're on speakerphone. Trapper has joined us."

"Sorry I'm late, ladies. Something came up. And just to let you know, I may have to leave again."

"Trapper, Angela and I were just talking about the expected pay-off time for the different pieces of our application. We are required to show one, five, ten and twenty if it goes that far. "

"Actually, you really don't have to go to twenty," said Angela. "If it doesn't start making a profit beyond what was covered by the grant in ten years, you won't get the grant."

The three began to hash through numbers and the remaining questions for the application. They had just concluded when there was a knock at Leah's door.

"Dr. McIntyre, Mr. Slocum would like to see you. He needs you to answer some questions for the health department."

Standing, Trapper said, "Ladies, if you'll excuse me." He walked around the desk and bent to kiss Leah.

"Dr. McIntyre, I think it would be good idea if you brought all your paperwork to Washington with you, just in case we need to make a few adjustments," said Angela.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No, I think I have everything I need at the moment." With that, Trapper nodded and left. "I think I like your doctor-friend, Leah. Besides being very knowledgeable, he has a very…nice…voice."

Leah smiled, looking at the door where Trapper had just passed. "Yes, he does."

As Stanley walked down the hall toward Trapper's office, Gonzo caught up to him. "You wouldn't happen to be going to see Trapper, would you?" asked Gonzo.

"As a matter of fact, Dr. Gates, he asked me to come up. Said it was important."

Gonzo grunted. "Yeah, I got the same message."

Trapper's door was open, and both men stepped in. "Good. You're both here. You can back each other up."

"For what?" asked Gonzo, dropping onto the sofa. Stanley took the chair in front of Trapper's desk.

"We have two infections that are going to involve the health department and the CDC."

"Two?" said Dr. Riverside, surprised. "At the same time?"

"Gonzo, I want you to handle the first since it started with your patient."

Leaning up and propping his arms on his thighs, Gonzo said, "So it is botulism."

Trapper nodded. "Mm hm. And we have two more patients who came through emergency. These two said they both ate a restaurant called Namkoong's Kitchen, so we're directing the health department there. But depending on what they find, you'll have to watch incoming patients until they find the source and contain it. The CDC will be here, but I'm sure Arnold will be handling them. You'll have to be prepared to answer any questions about our patients."

"And what about me?" asked Stanley.

"You'll be handling the second infection. It isn't as catastrophic as botulism can be, but if it's spread beyond this hospital, the CDC will get involved. I'm hoping it's not. You'll need to contact all the men in the hospital, regardless of their jobs and schedule testing…for gonorrhea." Stanley cringed. "That includes you, Gonzo."

"What? Why me?" asked Gonzo, standing.

Raising his hands, Trapper tried to calm him. "I don't think you've been exposed. You removed yourself from the situation early. But still, you should be tested just in case. It was Frieda Christopher who reported it to Leah. She claims she got it from someone here."

"Can't we just contact whoever she's been with?" asked Stanley.

"I have a list of names," Trapper said, passing a piece of paper to Stanley. "But it's not everyone. Frieda didn't know some of their names."

"Didn't know… Of all the irresponsible… The woman should be fired," said Stanley emphatically.

Trapper rolled his eyes. "She's already gone, Stanley. Leah accepted her resignation earlier today. Gonzo, this is the number where I'll be staying in Washington. Keep me informed. Stanley, yours is fairly routine, but if anything unusual happens, call me. I'll still have my pager for emergencies. Oh, and Gonzo, I've ordered a report of the contents of that container we found in the waiting room. The health department and the CDC will want a copy."

Standing, Stanley reached out for Trapper's hand. "Don't worry about a thing while you're gone. We'll take care of it. And good luck, John. That grant will go along way around here."

Gonzo was still standing with his hands on his hips in dismay when Stanley left the office. "I can't believe it. I could be infected with…."

"Leah did warn you about her," interrupted Trapper, moving paperwork from his desk into his satchel.

"Well, she didn't say to watch out for diseases."

Looking at Gonzo over his glasses, Trapper said sternly. "This is not Leah's fault."

"I didn't say it was," Gonzo said after taking a deep breath. "It's…she knew Frieda was…"

"Frieda was the most qualified for the job. It's as simple as that. You can't make hiring decisions on the basis of sexual promiscuity." Gonzo shook his head, hesitant to leave. "Look, just get tested and get it over with. This sounded like a recent thing, so you're probably clear."

As Trapper was shrugging on his jacket, Gonzo asked rather aloofly, "When does your flight leave?"

"Early tomorrow morning. I'm going upstairs to pull Leah away for dinner, and then we still have to pack."

Ambling to the door, Gonzo half-heartedly said, "Good luck," as he disappeared.

Before Trapper grabbed his satchel, he took a small black box from a desk drawer, studied it for a moment and smiled, then slipped it into his jacket pocket.


	83. Chapter 83

**Chapter Eighty-Three**

Trapper poked his head in Leah's office door, and seeing that her back was turned as she spoke on the phone, he entered, setting his satchel down next to the chair in front of her desk which he occupied after preparing a cup of coffee.

She turned briefly to see who had come in, then turned right back around, apparently listening intently to whoever was on the other end of the phone.

"So, Leah," said Albert. "It's finally over. You've won."

"I don't feel like I've won anything. The price for their negligence was too high. Do they even get that?" she snapped.

"Leah, dear, I've dealt with their lawyers from the beginning. I never saw the first one of them."

"Can they appeal this one?"

"No. This was their last appeal. This is it. Where do you want it?"

"Put it in an account I can get to easily. I may be using it soon. Use the same beneficiary designation we discussed earlier for the other accounts. And if anyone calls for a statement, send them to me. I most definitely will be making one," she said emphatically.

Albert could hear the slowly rising rage in her voice. "Now don't go spouting off. You could get yourself into trouble."

"I won't be saying anything that isn't true, Albert. They've settled to try to save some of their reputation, knowing full well if this had gone to trial, their negligence would be all over the news. This way no one has to take any personal responsibility. This is the coward's way out."

"Do you want me to turn them down?" he asked quietly.

There was silence as she seriously thought about it, eventually admitting to herself that she had to let it end. Letting out a long, slow breath, she said softly, "No. It's been going on too long. It needs to be over."

"All right. I'll take care of everything. You're not going home by yourself tonight are you?"

She chuckled. "Why is that any of your business?"

"I just don't think you need to go home to an empty house," he answered with concern in his voice. "You'll do nothing but dredge the past back up and end up a pitiful mess."

"You know me too well, Albert." She spun around in her chair, looking at Trapper who was wearing an apprehensive look with his arms were crossed and one hand over his mouth "I'll be spending the evening with Dr. McIntyre. We're flying to Washington tomorrow."

"Good. I'll let you know the details as soon as I can. Have a good trip."

Twisting her mouth, she slowly reached across the desk and hung up the phone, then studied Trapper. "Please don't worry. It's the last piece of the past that needed to fall into place."

"I didn't realize a lawsuit was still going…or even that one had been filed," he said softly.

"Albert filed it before I even woke up. It seems the chains holding the logs on the truck had been improperly secured. It wasn't the first time either, and when the other drivers for the company were questioned, they all said they were rushed to get the logs loaded and moving to the mill. If they had taken another half hour to secure those logs the right way…." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting off the wet warmth that was already stinging her eyes. "They settled for three million for each of their lives and one million for my injuries." Chuckling sourly, she said, "I would love to meet the person who thinks they know the dollar value of a human life. But at least, something good can come out of it. Not only can I build the children's hospital, but I can help your laser and microvascular surgery centers as well," she said, closing the folders on her desk and moving some to a file drawer and some to her briefcase."

Trapper stood. "Let's get out of here. Dinner first."

"I'm not very hungry."

"You still need to eat. Come on," he said, holding out his arm to put it around her when she came from behind her desk. "You'll feel better with a full stomach."

"I really wish you had eaten more," said Trapper, holding a wax-coated box stuffed full of Chinese food.

Leah pushed the security code into the gate's keypad and held the gate open for him. "I'll nibble on it tonight while you pack."

Trapper put the food in the refrigerator, and then followed her into the bathroom and to her large walk-in closet. She pulled out a Pullman bag and a garment bag, hanging the latter on the open closet door. He watched her pull out several business suits, skirts and jackets, blouses and slacks, breathing a sigh of relief when she packed several pairs of jeans and casual tops. Then she pulled out two formal dresses. "What are those for?"

"Do you have a tux?" she said, carefully moving the suits and formals into the garment bag.

Trapper looked at her sideways with narrowed eyes. "Why do I need a tux?

"Because there are always dinner parties…_formal_ dinner parties in Washington. If we get invited, that means someone is interested."

"Yes, I have a tux," he answered after a long exhale.

She stopped and smiled at him teasingly. "You don't like to play dress-up?"

"Are you done with these? I'll take them out to the car," he said, ignoring her repartee.

"Not quite," she said, taking a small accessory bag to the bathroom cabinet, packing scarfs, ties, pins, and jewelry, and then pulling underwear out of a drawer. She also took out several boxes of more expensive jewelry, setting them aside to go in a large purse she always carried with her when travelling. The accessory bag, underwear and makeup went into the Pullman with her casual clothes and shoes. "All right. I think that's it."

"That's it? You mean it's not going to take you hours to pack?" he asked with a playful smirk. She turned to him, looking happily up to into his eyes. "I hate packing. But it's nice to have someone to share my pain," she giggled.

He gave her a loud, wet kiss. "I'll show you pain. We haven't packed my bags yet."

Leah sat on the side of the Trapper's bed, listening to the groaning and grunting coming from his closet. When he finally emerged, he also had a Pullman and a garment bag. He parked the Pullman next to the bed, hung his garment bag on the bedroom door, and then disappeared into the bathroom.

"That wasn't very painful," she said loud enough to be heard in the other room.

"Well, I learned from you. I counted every suit, every pair of slacks, every formal gown, and every casual shirt you packed, and packed accordingly. The only thing I didn't duplicate was the gowns." He leaned out of the bathroom and winked. "I have only one tuxedo. Would you open the top drawer in the night stand and pull out two pair of the cufflinks?"

"Which ones?" she asked, opening the drawer. She stopped when she found his gun.

"Whichever ones you like?" he answered. Venturing another look from the bathroom, he stepped out when he saw her staring into the drawer. He took the box containing his cufflinks out and closed the drawer, handing her the box.

"Why do you have that?"

"For the same reason anyone has a gun. Protection," he said as he walked back into the bathroom.

He looked up from packing his shaving kit when he heard her voice behind him. "You need protection here?"

Smiling at her reflection in the mirror, he zipped his shaving kit and turned. "I'm finished here," he said, nodding at the door. As he packed his shaving kit in his Pullman, he explained. "I've been robbed before. The police couldn't do much about it other than keep an eye out for the things that were stolen. It certainly made me understand how someone feels violated when that kind of thing happens. So I have a gun." She handed him two pair of cufflinks which he wrapped in a handkerchief and placed in a pocket of his garment bag along with his ties and stays. "Does it bother you?"

She smiled. "No. I just wasn't expecting it. John kept a gun. He had a small safe installed in our bedroom just for the darn thing, so the kids couldn't get to it." Chuckling, she added, "I used to tell him he was paranoid. But then, we were never robbed."

Trapper took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "Let's go back down. I want to watch the news."

As Leah made herself comfortable on the sofa with her leftovers from dinner, Trapper turned on the television, poured two glasses of wine and joined her. They sat quietly listening, but both stiffened when a report started that detailed the inspection and investigation of a restaurant in the downtown, Namkoong's Kitchen.

"Four cases of botulism have been diagnosed at San Francisco Memorial Hospital prompting the county health department to perform a surprise inspection at a local restaurant. The owner, Young-Soo Namkoong, closed his business early for the inspection where the health department found no signs of the botulism bacteria. In addition all procedures for food safety were adequately being followed. But when Namkoong was questioned about his employees, he advised that one employee, a young man whose name we've been asked not to reveal, had been let go. Namkoong said the young man would not follow proper procedures for cleanliness and food preparation, prompting his termination. He also said that the discovery of an open wound on the employee's arm caused Namkoong to look more closely at his work, leading him to the discovery that the employee's work ethic was lacking. The health department obtained the young man's last known address from his former employer, but they have yet to find him. The investigation into the source of the infection is continuing. It should be noted that no violations were found at the restaurant at the time of the inspection, and the records show that all prior inspections revealed no violations."

"I don't understand," said Leah. "If there's nothing wrong at the restaurant now and the man's been fired, what else is there to find?"

Trapper sipped his wine. "They still need to find the source of the botulism, and apparently don't feel it originated at the restaurant. My guess is they believe the wound on his arm might have been the source of what we have at the hospital, but then they'd still have to find out where he got it. This may turn into a much bigger problem."

"You just need to remember it's not your problem for the next two weeks," said Leah, downing the last few drops of her wine. "I'm going to bed. We have to be up even earlier tomorrow morning. Are you coming?" she asked, standing.

He just laughed and shook his head.


	84. Chapter 84

**Chapter Eighty-Four**

When the cab dropped them off at the airport terminal, Trapper took both garment bags, letting Leah pull both Pullmans. They stood in line for ten minutes before they reached the counter. "ID please," said the woman at the counter. Both produced their driver's licenses. "Dr. John McIntyre," she said, holding up his driver's license and looking at his face. "Leah Haverty," she said, doing the same. She typed something on her keyboard, and then looked up. "You've both been upgraded to first class. I need you to step down to the end of the counter. Someone there will check your luggage."

"Who…" started Trapper.

"I have no idea," said the woman impatiently. "Now, if you'll step down to the end of the counter, the line behind you can move."

As Leah took the handles of the Pullman bags, she said, "It's easy to see you love your job," then moved quickly down the counter before the woman could respond.

"ID please." Both pulled out their driver's licenses again. "You know the sign for first class is the biggest sign here."

"We didn't buy first class tickets," said Trapper flatly.

"Oh, then why…"

"She," said Leah, pointing back to the woman they had seen first, "said we had been upgraded."

"All right then, let's get your bags checked and your seats occupied," the young man said, looking up with a smile.

"Wait a minute," said Leah with her hand on Trapper's arm. "You can't tell us who upgraded our seats?"

"Well, normally, there's a note, but no…this time, there's no note."

"We'll take the upgrade, but I'm paying for it," said Leah, digging in her purse for a credit card.

The young man stuttered. "Well, it's already paid for."

"We're not accepting it since we don't know who did it. We'll pay for our own upgrade. I insist. You need to refund the amount of the original upgrade to whatever instrument was used to pay for it."

Once in their seats, Trapper turned and looked pointedly at Leah. "I think I know what you were thinking when you paid for the upgrades, but would you mind explaining it to me any anyway?"

"I don't want to be accused of accepting favors. That's something that can get you in trouble when dealing with the federal government. In fact, if anyone offers to buy you anything, including a drink, you have to turn them down. Someone could accuse us of participating in bribery which would automatically disqualify us for the grant." She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and brought her hand up to her chin. "I wonder who wants to eliminate us from the running," she said quietly.

Though long, their flight was a peaceful one with a meal, cocktails and a light snack. When they had collected their luggage from the baggage claim carousel, they walked toward the doors and were met by a man holding cards with their names written on them.

"Ms. Haverty, Dr. McIntyre, if you'll come with me, I'll show you to your limousine."

"Wait," said Leah. "Who sent you?"

"I taught you well," said a feminine voice from behind them.

They turned, and Leah and the woman hugged affectionately. "Angela Bedford, I'd like you to meet Dr. John McIntyre."

With a smile, Trapper took her hand and shook it. "Angela, it's nice to meet you face to face. But why all this?" he asked, pointing back to the chauffeur.

"Didn't Leah tell you not to accept anything from anyone? That should have been the first thing she said when you got up this morning…and the second, third and fortieth."

Laughing, Trapper nodded. "Yes, she told me. I just have to get used to thinking that way."

"Well, don't worry. I'll be with you most of the time. But for those times I'm not, do not let anyone buy you anything. Now, let's get to the car and get you to my place, and we'll go over some things. I've already done your itineraries with a list of everyone you'll be meeting, and I took the liberty of accepting invitations for you to several formal and informal dinner parties…all the right ones to discuss or defend, as it may be, your grant application."

Leah felt an almost electrical chill run through her as she remembered a previous time in Washington lobbying for something as benign as soccer field lights. The competition for that was frightening. Now, having had that experience, she felt exhilarated at playing the game again. With a wide grin, she said, "I can't wait to get started. What's first?"

"We actually have a dinner party to attend tonight. And before that, you both have to read the grant application. You have to know it inside and out before you meet anyone."

As they walked through the hotel to the banquet room, Leah talked quietly to Angela. "Thank you for the loan of the dress. I brought two gowns and business suits."

"A business suit wouldn't do here tonight. You'll see when we get to the banquet room."

When they arrived at the door, Angela handed a security officer at the door of the room a card. "I'm Angela Bedford, and this is Leah Haverty and Dr. John McIntyre."

The man compared the card to a list and nodded, passing the card to another man who escorted them to a table.

"You two relax for a minute," said Angela. "I'm going to take inventory."

"Inventory?" asked Trapper.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "Of who's here."

Trapper mouthed the word 'oh' and returned the smile, then turned to Leah. "You look lovely. But I wish you wouldn't wear those heels. You'll break your neck one day, and they're not good for your feet or your legs."

"I've never heard that," she said, giving him a skeptical look.

"Over time, your tendons will shorten…permanently. You'll be walking on your tiptoes when you're an old woman because your Achilles tendon won't be long enough to allow your heel to touch the floor."

"You're kidding, right?" she asked nervously.

Looking her in the eye without a trace of amusement, he said, "No."

"Excuse me. Trapper?" said a man who had quietly approached their table.

Trapper stood with a wide smile and an extended hand. "Harold, how are you? I'd like you to meet a close friend of mine, Leah Haverty. Leah, this is Senator Harold Jefferson."

"Ms. Haverty," he said, offering his hand.

"Senator Jefferson," she said, nodding.

"Please, join us," said Trapper, motioning to a chair. "What brings you here tonight, Harold? You weren't on the list of committee members."

"Well, I'm not on the committee, but some of the applicants ask their local legislators to help sell their requests."

"Oh, I see," said Trapper, raising his brows.

"I saw your name on the list and got a copy of your application. You're asking for a lot, Trapper, but then, so is everyone else. There's even someone here who wants the entire twenty-five million. And yours is asking for a good chunk."

"Is that bad?" asked Trapper, chuckling before he took a sip of water.

"Well, asking for the whole thing is bad. I don't think that one will even be considered. The committee tends to look down their noses at bravado. But yours caught their eye."

"Why is that?" asked Leah.

"Because you've included computer infrastructure with some new technology for a system that was just installed. You're already ahead of most of these hospitals in that regard. The problem is that most of them didn't have the foresight to include computer infrastructure in their applications."

Leah scratched her neck, glancing over at Trapper with an impudent smile.

He ignored her. "Is that a good thing?"

"It could be…depending on how well received you two are. A word of advice; be humble. The committee hates braggarts. But you need to know what you're selling intimately. And don't think that you'll be over their heads with this new technology. They've hired a consultant to make sure they understand the technical aspects of these applications. Well, I have to be off," said the Senator, standing. "I should be looking for the folks I'm representing. Trapper, it was very nice to see you again. We'll probably be seeing each other on and off before this is over. Ms. Haverty, a pleasure."

Trapper stood and took the Senator's hand, shaking it warmly. "I hope so, Harold. We have some catching up to do."

Angela returned to the table just as the Senator was leaving. "I see you two have already met Senator Jefferson."

"Yes, well," started Leah, narrowing her eyes at Trapper. "It seems the Senator and the doctor are old friends. Just how many politicians do you call 'friend', Trapper?"

He chuckled. "Several. But none who are on the committee."

"Come with me, you two," said Angela, smiling in amusement at the banter that tended to go back and forth between Trapper and Leah. "I want to introduce you around. And remember, tonight is for meeting, not talking business."

Angela walked around the banquet room, introducing Trapper and Leah to the members of the committee as well as their advisers. The tour of the room stopped dead when she introduced them to Senator Joe Davis who also introduced the technical consultant for the committee.

Leah stiffened, causing her to stand just a bit taller. She wore no expression whatsoever on her face as she just looked at the offered hand of the committee's technical consultant. Angela and Senator Davis glanced nervously at each other as Leah and the consultant stood locked in a staring match while Trapper, looking from one to the other, flared his nostrils and moved Leah's hand over his arm.


	85. Chapter 85

**Chapter Eighty-Five**

It was apparent that his offered hand wasn't going to be accepted, so he withdrew it. "It's nice to see you again, Leah."

With a suspicious smile that matched her narrowed eyes, she answered, "I'm actually surprised to see you here, Doug. This kind of work isn't normally up your alley."

He laughed. "True. I'm doing it as a favor for a friend."

With the same smile, she asked, "Doesn't this present a conflict of interest? After all, you'll be advising the committee on the merits of our grant application which includes a request for computer infrastructure…from me. I would think, considering our recent history, you would be excused."

"Recent history?" asked Senator Davis.

"It was really nothing more than business, Joe," offered Doug. "I'm sure Ms. Haverty agrees we can remain professional."

She simply maintained her smile.

"Well," Angela said, breaking the sudden silence. "I see they're starting to serve dinner. Why don't we all return to our tables."

"I think that's an excellent idea," agreed Trapper, turning Leah away from Doug. "Why are you shaking?" he asked quietly, leaning close as they walked across the room to their table with Angela lingering behind to speak to Senator Davis.

"Sorry. I get this way when I'm furious."

"That's comforting. It means you've never been furious at me." He glanced over looking for a smile, and he got one.

"You're right. I was beyond furious with you and threw my shoes across my office." She didn't look but definitely heard a deep chuckle as he pulled her chair out for her, then seated himself next to her. "You do realize that unless he _is_ excused, we're screwed, don't you?"

Taking her hand, he gave it a pat, followed by a kiss. "I wouldn't worry about it. Senator Davis seemed taken by surprise. I'm sure there will be an inquiry. Angela," he said, as she joined them at the table. "Any problems?"

Leah knew she was thinking by the way she stared at her plate. "Leah, you need to tell me about this recent history. Doug Manning has a bit of a reputation in Washington. A lot of people owe him favors, and he's been known to collect in, let's say, creative ways."

"I'll do one better than that," she said, digging into her clutch and pulling out a card. "This is my attorney. Call him on his private number on the back of the card and tell him you're working on a grant with me. He'll know it's true because you have his private number. Ask him to overnight a copy of the court transcript and final ruling for Manning Consulting vs. Leah Haverty."

Angela sat back as more people joined their table. After everyone introduced themselves as the meal was being served, Angela excused herself. "If you gentlemen will excuse me for a moment," she said. "Ms. Haverty, would you join me?"

"Of course," said Leah, laying her napkin on the table next to her plate.

When they were out of earshot of everyone, Angela turned. "He sued you? You sued him? What?"

Leah smiled and bowed her head, but quickly looked back up. "He sued. I countersued. He wasn't happy with the decision."

"And what can I do with these papers?" Angela looked sidelong at Leah when she saw the same seditious smile she had seen earlier that evening.

"Whatever you need to do with them."

The ladies returned to their table, apologizing for their absence. During dinner Trapper and Leah talked about deep sea fishing, Lake Tahoe and Fallen Leaf Lake and, of all things, the charming town of Pescadero. There was no mention of Doug Manning, the grant, work or politics for the remainder of the evening.

Arriving at Angela's around midnight, both Leah and Trapper were exhausted. Their first day in Washington hadn't been that busy, but with their early and long flight from San Francisco on top of an evening of talking non-stop about everything but what they had come to Washington to talk about, they dragged into the house and flopped on the sofa.

"You both did a lot of talking tonight, and you made a good first impression."

"How do you know that?" asked Leah with her head on the back of the sofa and her eyes closed. "You disappeared."

"Not true. I was talking to everyone you had already spoken with. They all think you're an attractive couple."

"Wait a minute. We didn't tell anyone we were a couple," objected Trapper.

"Of course you didn't. With words, anyway." Both turned their heads and gave her a wary look. "If you don't want people to know you're a couple, you have to stop walking so close. Trapper, you have to stop touching her arm or wrapping her arm around yours, and you both have to stop whispering in each other's ear and then smiling like you do."

"Like we do?" Leah asked, smirking.

"Yes. Like you're both love struck."

Dropping her forehead into her hand and rubbing, Leah asked, "Is that going to hurt us?"

"Not necessarily. But when it's time for business, you can't be a couple. That means, Trapper, no touching. And stop whispering sweet nothings in her ear." He harrumphed. "We're all tired. Why don't you both turn in? We have an even busier day tomorrow."

Neither argued. They rose from the sofa and walked slowly back to their bedroom where they sat on opposite sides of the bed and undressed. Leah went into the bathroom to wash her face, and before she got back, Trapper was in the bed asleep.

The next morning, Angela ushered them out the door early for a breakfast meeting with two Congressmen who wanted to know why the hospital needed two MRI machines in addition to a laser surgery center.

"The only laser surgery center on the west coast is in Los Angeles," said Trapper. "There isn't one to the north, and though the center in Los Angeles takes care of Southern California quite well, getting there from the north takes eight hours or more just from San Francisco or it costs an arm and a leg to fly. With San Francisco being centrally located, we can serve southern Washington, Oregon, the Sacramento, Stockton and Modesto areas as well as Nevada. In fact, we get a lot of our patients from Las Vegas because they don't want to drive into Los Angeles. They generally come a long way for surgery, and we'll be able to get them home earlier because laser surgery is less invasive."

"And what about the MRI machines?" asked Congressman Michaels.

"There is only one MRI machine in San Francisco. In fact, it's the only one within four hundred miles, and it's at the University of California. Many of their patients are at the poverty line or below and go there because much of the University's services are free. Care is given by their med school students for practical experience. The average patient doesn't want to be cared for by a student who's not even at an intern level. With the laser center and the ability to offer microvascular surgery, our patient numbers are going to rise quickly. Two machines might not even keep up with demand, but it's a start."

The two committee members looked at each other with puzzled expressions. "Dr. McIntyre, are you basing your need for two MRI machines on the supposition that you're going to be getting the laser surgery center or money for microvascular education?"

"Absolutely not. They were simply examples. We're already in the process of building a new wing. Ms. Haverty can speak to the hospital's growth as well. But let me show you this first," he said, removing a CT scan and x-ray film from his satchel along with a film from an MRI. He passed them over to the congressmen. "These two are what we have to work with today. As you can see, the image is shown in varying levels of gray…not very detailed." He passed the MRI image to them. "This is what we will be able to see with the MRI machines. We do a good bit of guessing when it comes to working with CT scans and x-rays, and many times, we have to do exploratory surgery just to confirm what we're seeing. The scans from the MRI machine will cut that by two-thirds. That means, gentlemen, we won't be cutting people open just to make a decision on a course of treatment. I would be happy if all we get are the MRI machines. But you have to remember the microvascular surgery and laser surgery will have the same effect. With microvascular surgery, we'll be more successful at saving severed limbs, and we'll be able to repair the fine vessels in organs where before, we transplanted replacement organs. The laser surgery center enhances that, but also reduces the size of incisions, and in many cases turns a major surgery into an outpatient procedure."

Leah sat forward with a set of charts, handing them to the congressmen. "Gentlemen, the growth of the hospital alone warrants developing ways to improve services…to make them more efficient. Here are the numbers that prove this out. As you can see, we designed the computer systems with the hospital's current patient load plus thirty percent in mind. Before we even got the system completely installed, patient numbers had already reached the thirty percent we allocated for future growth. Our tape library is almost full, and those tapes have to remain available onsite for three years by law. All this is because San Francisco is one of the fastest growing metropolitan areas in the country. If San Francisco Memorial were to build a laser center and be able to offer microvascular surgery, in addition to the influx of patients just the MRI machines will attract…well, we're talking about the potential for exponential growth."

"Dr. McIntyre, Ms Haverty, do you realize that many of the other institutions represented here are asking for the same things? What makes you more worthy than anyone else?"

Trapper sat back in his chair and took a sip of water, taking his time to answer that question. "I believe if you look at projected growth in all areas of the country, you'll find your answer. It will certainly do good to install an MRI machine or build a laser center anywhere in the country where people live. But you have to consider the number of people receiving those services, and the cost to get to those services from anywhere else in the country. The number of people coming into California each year alone certainly warrants better health services. And because San Francisco has a major international airport, flights in and out are much less costly than flights to smaller cities. Simply put, for the average American, San Francisco is one of the most economical places to go for these kinds of services. In addition, centrally locating these services in California means they'll be offered right out the back doors of millions of people."

"You make these services sound inadequate for the growth California alone is experiencing."

"To be honest, this is inadequate. But this can be the springboard to get more help from the private sector. We don't intend to stop with just this grant. We intend to keep looking for ways to expand these services to keep up with demand."

The waiter brought their checks out, prompting Leah to pull cash from her handbag. Trapper pulled out his wallet as well and laid cash on the table with his check.

"Pardon me for asking, and please tell me if it's none of my business, but aren't you both on an expense account? It's highly unusual to pay cash when you're on business."

Leah smiled. "We're not on an expense account. The hospital's budget was set at the beginning of the year with little wiggle room, so we've financed this trip personally."

Congressman Michaels simply nodded and stood, followed by Congressman Evans. Trapper and Leah rose as well and everyone shook hands. "Dr. McIntyre, Ms. Haverty, thank you for speaking with us today. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay."

After the committee members left, Trapper and Leah resumed their seats, nibbling on their cold breakfast. "What do you think?" asked Leah.

"Hard to tell. I'm sure they'll hear the same song and dance from everyone else who wants an MRI machine, a laser surgery center and money for microvascular education," said Trapper sarcastically.

She winked at him. "Oh. Does that count as taboo? Perhaps if we're delivering the same message, we should enhance our delivery."

"And just how do we do that?"

"I don't know, but we have to come up with something that sets us apart. Come on," she said, standing. "We have another meeting at the Senate offices in an hour, and I have no idea how long it takes to get there."


	86. Chapter 86

**Chapter Eighty-Six**

Saturday of the first full week in Washington arrived, and Angela was up early as usual going for her morning jog. When she got back to her house, she expected to see Leah and Trapper in the kitchen making breakfast, but upon opening the door, she noticed the all consuming silence in the house. She quietly walked past the kitchen and into the living room, and saw…no one. But she did hear water running which meant someone was in the shower.

In only a few minutes, Trapper appeared. "Good morning, Angela."

"Good morning, doctor. Did you two decide to sleep in?"

Chuckling, Trapper said, "Leah's still sleeping. I've been on the phone all morning."

Angela offered him coffee which he accepted. "Problems?"

"Well, not for the hospital, but maybe for the city. We had a small outbreak of botulism that was traced to a man who had been fired from the restaurant we tracked it to. The man was found dead yesterday in the backroom of a bathhouse in The Castro."

"Well, they found him. Is that the end of it?" she asked, sipping her coffee.

Trapper laughed the word 'no'. "Are you familiar with The Castro?"

"No, not really."

"It's an area in San Francisco where the gay community has come together. Prostitution is rampant there among the gays just like it is among the heterosexuals in other areas of the city. There are a lot of them who turn their tricks in public bathhouses. This man still had an active infection in a wound on his arm, so chances are it's spreading through The Castro. The health department is there in force, and they've recruited the doctor I left in charge of the situation at the hospital."

"Gonzo?" said Leah, walking in from the bedroom with wild hair and yawning.

Angela laughed. "You look like a train wreck. What's happened to you?"

"I don't remember grant lobbying being this hard when it was just soccer lights. We have been out late every night this week."

"It's not over yet," said Angela, passing her a cup of coffee. "You have another dinner party tonight."

Climbing up on a stool, laying her head on the counter and moving her hands on her head, she whined, "Why does this have to last two weeks? We've already said everything we can say." She raised her head and nursed her coffee. "A hundred times, at least."

Trapper rubbed her neck and shoulders. "A nice hot shower will do you good, kiddo. Come on."

As they left for their room, Angela called after them. "When you're done, come back out. We have more work to do."

Leah stopped and turned. "Work? But it's Saturday."

"Look at it this way. It'll only be one hundred and one."

Leah undressed, but before she could go into the bathroom, Trapper pulled her into his arms and a kiss. She gave him a tired smile.

"You really don't feel well, do you?" he asked, still holding her close. "How'd you sleep last night?"

Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead on his chin. "I slept fine. I'm just…worn out…from the week."

"Sit down over here," he said, directing her to the bed.

She pulled back. "Just let me take a shower. I'm sure that's all I need."

Continuing to the bed, he gave her a stern look and commanded, "Sit."

She sat down and waited until he appeared next to her with a stethoscope. "What? Do you take that thing everywhere you go?"

"Mm hm. Take a deep breath," he said patiently as he placed the chest piece on her back.

She sucked in a quick breath reacting to the coldness of the metal. "How could I not take a deep breath? That thing is like ice."

"Ssh. Take another one. And another one," he added as he moved the chest piece. Moving to the front, he listened to her heart, then moved two fingers to her neck. "Do you hear ringing in your ears?"

She rolled her eyes, but cocked her head to listen. "Come to think of it, yes, I do. But it's so light, I didn't notice until you asked."

"Have you taken your meds?"

"I take them at night before bed, except for the cyclosporine which I take twice a day. But yes, I took them last night."

"Your pulse is elevated. Most likely, your blood pressure, too." He folded the stethoscope and set it on the bed while he looked down at her with furrowed brows and a frown.

"Trapper, it's just stress, I'm sure. I was hoping we'd get to take a break today…and maybe tomorrow, but it looks like Angela plans to do more coaching."

Trapper had gone back to his satchel and pulled out a black address book. Flipping through the pages, he stopped and picked up the telephone. "Dr. Dan Abrahms, please. Yes, I'll hold."

Leah sprang up from the bed, fuming. "Trapper, what are you doing? I'm fine."

He raised a finger to his lips. "Dan, John McIntyre. I'm well. How are you? Glad to hear it. Look, I'm in Washington…" He chuckled. "Isn't everyone here for free money? Listen, I'm here with someone who's a heart recipient. She's not feeling well, and her pulse and blood pressure are elevated. Do you think we could come in for some tests today?"

"Is this a colleague or a personal friend?"

Trapper hesitated, glancing over at Leah and thinking how much more she was than a personal friend. "Both."

"Some things never change, do they? When can you be here?"

"Within the hour. Thanks, Dan. I owe you one."

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Leah stomped into the bathroom. She leaned over to turn on the water, and when she stood back up, Trapper was standing behind her.

He took both of her shoulders in his hands, turning her to face him. "Listen to me, Leah. This may well be caused by stress. But these are also symptoms of rejection. We need to be sure."

She continued to glare. "This is no different than work at the hospital."

"Yes it is," he calmly replied. "You've been going from sun up to after midnight every night this week. You're not supposed to be working that long for a reason." Lowering her head, she rubbed her neck. "I'll go talk to Angela while you're in the shower." When she finally gave in and nodded, he kissed her forehead, and then moved to her lips, where he lingered for a moment as he touched her forehead with his before he left for the living room.

Trapper had just finished explaining the symptoms of organ rejection to Angela when Leah emerged dressed in her jeans and sweater. "I'm ready. Let's get this over with."

"I'm going with you," said Angela, rising to retrieve her purse off the kitchen table.

"You don't have to go. There's no sense in wasting everyone's time," said Leah, glaring at Trapper.

Holding the door for both ladies, Trapper responded. "It's not a waste of time. Even if there's no sign of rejection, and there probably isn't, we need to do something to get your blood pressure down while you're here. Dan can write a prescription."

Trapper opened the car door, and Leah stepped in. "Why can't you just do this yourself?" she asked.

After opening Angela's door behind Leah, he walked around to the driver's side. "I don't have the equipment to run the tests, and I don't have a license to practice medicine in Washington D.C. Any more questions?" he asked with raised eyebrows before he cranked the car.

She took a deep breath and squinted defeatedly. "No."

Angela sat in the waiting room while Leah and Trapper were in the examining room. After an hour, Trapper came out to update Angela. "The good news is it's not rejection, but her blood pressure is too high. Dr. Abrahms suggested doubling her blood pressure medication, which we can do without a new prescription. She had just gotten her prescription filled before we left."

"Is that it?"

"No. She needs to slow down. "

"I don't think you're going to get her to do that this week. She's dead set on getting this grant."

"We'll just have to do a better job of getting her to say good night. Can you reschedule our late appointments this week?"

"All but the dinner parties, but there are only two of those left, including the one tonight."

"I see you two are already scheming," said Leah, approaching them from down the hall. "Trapper, Dr. Abrahms would like to see you."

Trapper rose from the seat next to Angela. "Ladies, if you'll excuse me. I shouldn't be long."

"Hey," called Leah as he headed down the hall. "Don't be talking about me," she demanded, winking.

He stopped for a moment and smiled at her, then continued on his way.

"He cares very deeply for you. You know that don't you?" said Angela, remaining in her seat, sitting comfortably with her legs crossed.

Leah took the seat Trapper had vacated. All she could manage was a smile.

With a skeptical look, Angela said, "Oh, come on now. Just the way he watches you is…" She shook her head. "You can't sit there and tell me you don't feel the same way."

Glancing over, Leah snorted, and then continued to look forward with a smile. "You have to understand, Angela, I've lost myself in total love and loyalty to a family…to a man before. And in losing them, I almost didn't survive." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "I don't know if I can immerse myself that way again. I might drown."

"Well, you had better figure it out and soon. He's a man on the verge."

"On the verge of what?"

"Of changing his life to include you," said Angela vehemently.

"Trapper doesn't change his life. He expects others to change theirs. He's divorced, and it was the all-consuming requirements of his job that led to it. He's not going to change his life for anyone."

Angela sat up on the edge of her seat and turned to Leah. "You don't know how fortunate you are, do you? To have had a man in your life who thought the Earth revolved around you. And then finding another man who probably thinks the same way. You need to wake up, Leah. You've been mired in the loss of your family long enough. It's time to let it go, and I mean all of it…the doubts included." She sat back and looked away, letting out a long breath. "I'll bet you never even asked him about his divorce."


	87. Chapter 87

**Chapter Eighty-Seven**

Leah didn't speak all the way back to Angela's house even though Angela and Trapper had a lively conversation almost the entire way. As they walked into the house, Trapper said, "Angela, I just don't see that there's much more we can do."

"What you will both do tonight is laugh, dance and charm the pants off of them. And when they ask questions, answer them without stumbling. Are you up to that?"

Trapper stood holding the door for the ladies. "We both know this inside and out. I don't see how they could ask a question we couldn't answer."

"Good. Now, I have a list of questions. I'm going to drill you for the next hour, and then we're getting ready to go."

Trapper leaned back against the bedroom door watching Leah as she undressed and powdered herself top to bottom. "That smells good. What is it?"

She handed him the round box before she turned toward the bathroom. "Name's on the bottom."

Tossing the box over to the bed, he reached out and grabbed her hand, turning her around. "What's wrong?" he asked as he pulled her into him.

Opening her mouth, she shook her head, and then closed it again, letting out a long breath. "I need to start getting ready or we'll be late."

He turned around with his arms around her and trapped her against the door. "Then we'll be late," he said, looking into her eyes. She tried to turn away, but he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at his. "You haven't said more than ten words since we left the hospital. What is this about?"

"It's about wondering what the hell I'm doing," she snapped. "It's about you…and me…and how I could possibly think for even a minute that this…we…would work."

Letting her go, he walked to the bed and sat down, running his hand over his head, and then letting his arms rest on his thighs. "What did Angela say to you?"

"Why are you blaming this on her?"

"Because you were fine until I left you with her in the waiting area. When I came back you were already clammed up." Shaking her head again, she avoided his gaze and went into the bathroom, closing the door. He took a deep breath and purposefully left the bedroom in search of Angela. He found her in the other bedroom, stripped down to her bra and panties.

"Wha…What are you doing in here? Get out!"

A sneer appeared on Trapper's face. "Don't flatter yourself. I've seen that a thousand times at the hospital," he said, looking her up and down. "What the hell did you say to Leah in that waiting room?"

Angela made a short, clipped laugh. "I told her she needed to wake up. I told her it was time for her to let the doubts go; that she had a second chance with you. Do you know what she said? She said you would never change your life for her. That your job destroyed your first marriage." Trapper stood with his mouth open, confounded. "She's not counting on things being any different."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he slowly backed out of the room and quietly closed the door. He went back to his room, and stood facing that closed door, thinking she should know how he felt by now. When he finally entered, she was still in the bathroom, so he went to the closet and took out his tux. As he undressed he thought about how he could broach the subject of his divorce, how he had tried to save his marriage and what ultimately doomed it. Then he laughed at himself. He didn't owe her an explanation. If she had a problem with him, it was between them, and should have nothing to do with how his first marriage ended. He knew what Leah wanted, but she'd have to tell him herself and hear his answer before she'd believe him. Then again, she still might not believe him. Maybe it was just as well they were having issues tonight. He'd have no trouble staying away from her at the dinner party.

Trapper, Leah and Angela all ended up at separate tables, but not because they planned it that way. Leah was seated at a table with the technical consultant and a female committee member and the few other applicants who had included technology upgrades. Trapper was seated with several other men and women with a medical background and a male committee member. Angela considered herself seated with the leftovers; no one of great importance, though she knew it didn't matter. Except for dinner, most people would be either dancing or mingling in an adjoining room. She would be in the mingling crowd, listening to the aftermath of Trapper or Leah's conversations.

"Tell me, Dr. McIntyre, said one of the Congressmen at his table. "When's the last time you needed a microvascular surgeon?"

"The day before I left to come here," he said, smiling. "We had a young man come in through emergency with a leg severed just below the knee. He had been cutting trees with a chain saw, slipped and fell…on the chain saw."

"What were you able to do for him?"

"Well, nothing until we could find a surgeon qualified to reattach it. We found someone in Seattle and flew him down. He did the surgery the next day. We were lucky this time. Most times, we can't get qualified people in before the severed limb is no longer viable."

"And how often do you have to deal with severed limbs?"

"Several times a week. Mostly fingers. But then we do several surgeries every day dealing with the fine vessels in the eyes, heart and ears. Many times, we'll schedule those where recovery isn't probable without microvascular intervention in advance, so a skilled surgeon is available. For those who can recover without that kind of intervention, we do the surgery ourselves, but the patient has a much longer stay with us, and an increased recuperative time even after they leave the hospital. There's just not enough microvascular surgeons available to go around."

"And why do you think your hospital should be the place to get this education?"

"Well, we're centrally located on the west coast, but the better reason is that I have a commitment from a stellar microvascular surgeon to move to our area to head the program…if we're able to start it. In addition, we're not associated with a university. The people we'll be training are established surgeons with years of experience in their fields."

"Ms. Haverty, a robot silo is an enormous undertaking," said the technical consultant. "There aren't many installed and working in the country. I'm not sure you have the experience to pull this off."

Leah smiled. "Have we met yet?"

"Actually, no. I apologize. I'm Arthur Dorman. I was hired to clean up Xanda after the first contract was cancelled. Since I'm already on the payroll, they asked me to step in as technical consultant."

Leah's smile turned into a puzzled look as she slightly cocked her head. "The first contract was cancelled?"

"Let me explain," offered Senator Gray. "Art, I think you should know Ms. Haverty is the person who turned the Xanda job down."

"Oh. Why would you do that?"

"Hm? I'm sorry?" Leah had retreated into her own thoughts.

"Why would you turn down an opportunity like that?"

"Because I would have been working for a…" She stopped suddenly, realizing that in this venue, she had to tread lightly. "For Manning Consulting. I no longer wanted to work for them. And I wasn't offered a direct hire opportunity otherwise I probably would have accepted it. But why was the contract cancelled?"

"That's quite simple," said the Senator. "We didn't feel anyone else on Manning's payroll was up to par. You had an exceptional history in government work, and we wanted you. When we found you weren't available, we looked elsewhere. There was also the matter of your encryption program, but when we found it was part of the public record in your lawsuit…well, I'm sure there have been quite a few people looking at those records." The Senator waited for a reaction from Leah, but what she got was the look of someone about to bolt from the room. "Art, the part you're missing is that you have replaced Manning twice now. You replaced his company at Xanda, and you have replaced him now as technical consultant to the committee…all thanks to Ms. Haverty."

Leah snapped her head back around to face the Senator. "Thanks to me? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you are the one who delivered the court papers regarding Manning vs. Haverty to the committee room, aren't you?"

Creasing her brows, she answered, "No, I'm not. I don't know anything about it."

"Hm. Well, I'm not really surprised," said Senator Gray. "There are several people here who don't care for Mr. Manning."

"Well, all that being said, that still doesn't qualify you to install a robot silo," said Art.

"Mr. Dorman, I implemented the robot silo at the University of California's Children's Hospital."

"How is that possible? You were working for San Francisco Memorial when that happened."

"Actually, it was just prior to my work at San Francisco Memorial. I set up the Children's Hospital system initially with the robot silo at their request. They had deep pockets and could afford it, but my work was voluntary. I didn't get paid for it."

Art looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Why don't you give Dr. Tom Prescott a call at the Children's Hospital? If you folks will excuse me for a few minutes, I need to get some air. Dinner isn't settling very well."

Trapper watched her walk across the dining room. Her face was flushed and her head was bowed in stark contrast to the woman who had been holding her head up proudly, at least in public, since they had arrived. He barely fought the need rising within him to follow her.

Angela, on the other hand, wasn't there to impress anyone.


	88. Chapter 88

**Chapter Eighty-Eight**

Leah walked out of the banquet room and left the hotel, randomly choosing a direction based on where her feet took her. She ended up four blocks away at a pay phone. When Albert's machine answered her call, she left a detailed message and hung up, then leaned back against the wall of the booth. After thinking about her situation for a few minutes, he eyes suddenly opened, and she turned in the booth, looking in every direction. When she was satisfied that no one was interested in what she was doing, she stepped out and hurriedly walked back to the hotel.

By the time Angela realized Leah had left the hotel, Leah was long gone. Angela looked up and down the sidewalk, even walking to the corners of the building and looking down the side streets. She rushed over to the cabs waiting for fares in front of the hotel and asked each one if they had seen any of the cabs take a fare from the hotel. The collective answer was 'no.'

Hurrying back into the banquet room, she went directly to Trapper's table, begged the indulgence of those sitting with him, and then whispered into Trapper's ear. "Leah's left the hotel. I can't find her."

After smiling at his fellow diners, his face was anything but genial when he whispered back, "Are you sure?" Angela tightened her lips and nodded, but before Trapper could excuse himself from the table, in marched Leah seemingly back to herself with her head held high and striding confidently across the floor toward her table.

"I apologize," she said as she seated herself while the men around the table stood. "I had gotten a bit dizzy suddenly. The fresh air seems to have done the trick."

As dessert was served, Art Dorman continued to delve into San Francisco Memorial's new system, how she protected it during the recent Xanda crisis, and how she came to install the system at the Children's Hospital. "It's unusual for a technical person such as yourself to successfully step into a management role," observed Art. "Most engineers turn those down."

She had turned away from the rest of the table and faced Art as the others were engrossed in other conversations around the table. "To tell you the truth, Art, not taking the Xanda position was a very difficult decision. The work there is ground-breaking. But because of health considerations, my doctors advised that I lighten my load, and they didn't feel I could do that with the hours I was working as an engineer. They were not happy that I was crawling around underneath the raised floor."

"If you don't mind my asking, what health considerations?"

She looked him dead in the eyes. "I received a new heart almost five years ago, and earlier this year, that heart developed a hole. I had to have open heart surgery again."

Art turned red. "Oh. Well…that certainly is a valid consideration, though looking at you I never would have guessed it."

"Thank you," she replied, smiling. "But don't be embarrassed. It's the stress of the job that my doctors are worried about. So I've eliminated the physical aspect of it and tend to sit behind a desk pushing a pencil."

"But you're here. This whole process is stressful. How are you holding up?"

"Funny you should ask that. I actually went to the hospital earlier today. My blood pressure has been a little high while I've been here. But I've adjusted my medication, so I'm fine now," she said, patting his hand. "In fact, that's probably where the dizziness came from."

As people started leaving the dining hall, Art stood and held his arm out to her. "It appears we're moving to the other hall. Would you care to dance?"

With a wide grin, she asked, "Don't you have to mingle with the other technical folks here?"

"There aren't that many here, and I've already spoken to the others extensively. That's why you were slated to sit with me this evening."

"Oh," she said, accepting his arm, and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor where they carried on a lively technical conversation the rest of the evening.

Trapper danced very little during the evening. Evidently none of the organizers considered that the majority of the guests were male. He did speak with a few old friends and professional acquaintances and managed to draw a crowd as he explained the logistics and problems encountered during Ellen Frank's surgeries. "Dr. McIntyre, you and your staff are to be commended. Just finding a place to start had to be difficult, and being able to put together two teams on such short notice couldn't have been easy. And your work…remarkable. Did you know Ms. Frank is in Washington?"

"No, I didn't." Trapper took a sip of his cocktail.

"She's here, and though she's still in a wheelchair, she's making significant progress."

Trapper bowed his head before he spoke. "I would think significant progress in her case is relative."

"Sadly, true."

Later in the evening, Trapper and Angela stood near the door, watching Leah. "She's been dancing with him all night. And even when she's not, she's still talking to him. Who is he?" asked Trapper.

"That is the committee's technical consultant. She's been working on him since dinner."

Trapper grunted and nursed his champagne. "It seems she's had his undivided attention so far."

People were slowly starting to say their goodbyes and leave the banquet hall. Trapper had just shaken hands with another doctor when he turned to look for Angela who was already heading toward him. "You've done well tonight, Trapper. Everyone has spoken highly of you." She turned to look around the room. "Now, I just need to find Leah. It seems she's managed to monopolize the technical consultant the entire evening, though there were one or two times all the technical folks seemed quite amused."

Both Angela and Trapper looked, and as groups of people moved toward the exit, Leah and the consultant appeared on the other side of the room sitting alone at a table in what looked like a very involved conversation. They sat close, their heads only inches apart. Leah was tracing her fingers over the table, and Mr. Dorman would follow and nod when she bounced the tip of her finger on what she had just drawn.

When they reached the table, Trapper cleared his throat and glanced quickly at Angela with an amused smile. "I hate to intrude, but it's getting late. The young lady needs her rest."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep her. It's just that she has so many good ideas that will help at Xanda." Art stood and offered his hand to Trapper. "Art Dorman. I'm the committee's technical consultant."

Trapper accepted the hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Dorman. I'm John McIntyre, and this is Angela Bedford."

After nodding his head to Angela, Dorman looked at Trapper and recognition dawned on his face. "Aren't you the doctor who was shot trying to protect Ellen Frank?"

Leah stood and interrupted. "Dr. McIntyre, Art is fixing Xanda, so he's heard the whole story."

"I see," said Trapper, looking from Leah to Art with a forced smile. "It seems strange to me that no one remembers that Leah was shot as well."

Spinning back toward Leah, Art looked at her with an open mouth and wide eyes. "You didn't tell me that."

She blushed. "Well, it wasn't really that important. It was just a flesh wound in my arm. Dr. McIntyre came close to losing his life."

"It seems both of you lead exciting lives in San Francisco. I can see why you wanted to stay instead of coming to Livermore where there are endless laboratories and more scientists with their noses in beakers than you can shake a stick at."

Leah laughed. "Oh, it can't be that bad. And even if it is, I'd think the kind of work you're doing makes up for it."

"Yes, it does." Turning back toward Trapper and Angela, he bowed slightly. "It was nice meeting you both. I should let you take Leah home, and I need to get back to my hotel," he said, looking at his watch. "We've all got another full day tomorrow. Leah," he said, taking her hand and covering it with his other hand, "I hope we can talk more about your ideas."

Moving behind Leah, Trapper stepped into her back and slightly leaned his head over her shoulder. "Are we talking again?"

She dropped her forehead into her hand, stroking it with her fingers. "Shall we go?" Looking at Angela, she nodded toward the exit and took off across the room with Angela and Trapper close behind.


	89. Chapter 89

**Chapter Eighty-Nine**

When Angela, Leah and Trapper walked in the front door of Angela's house, she wasted no time in sending everyone to bed. "I suggest we all sleep on everything that was said or learned tonight. I've rearranged your schedule, Leah, to end your days earlier, and I've removed everything from Sunday, so we'll have some down time tomorrow." She nodded at Trapper. "Doctor's orders."

"I wish you had talked to me before you did that," said Leah. "Who said I needed more time in the evenings?"

"Your doctor."

"Trapper?" she said, pointing. "He's not my doctor."

"He's the only doctor around who's qualified to speak on your behalf. Now, there's no point in arguing. It's done. Go to bed." Angela leaned in for a cheek and a kiss aimed at Leah's ear, then shooed her and Trapper away, disappearing into her bedroom.

Leah gave Trapper an irritated glare as she headed toward their bedroom.

He closed the door behind him and watched her go into the bathroom. Slipping off his jacket, he tossed it on the bed, then began to loosen his bow tie, occasionally glancing toward the bathroom where he could she her shadow moving across the floor and walls. When she stepped out, her dress was on a hanger, and she was barefooted in a robe.

Unfastening his cuff links, he continued to watch her as he put them away. She had just turned back toward the bathroom when he stopped her. "Leah." Pausing with a jerk, she turned back around slowly, cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. Trapper sat down on the side of the bed. "If you want to know something, just ask."

"It's none of my business."

"I thought we were at the point that we could ask each other anything." She crossed her arms and looked away. "All right. I'll make it easy for you. What is it about my divorce from Melanie that bothers you?"

Straightening, she looked at him, and then cast her eyes down. He asked. Did that change anything? After a few moments of awkward silence, she looked back up at him. "You said vows for better or worse. Why didn't you fight for your marriage?"

Trapper picked his jacket up off the bed and headed for the closet, smiling as he passed her. "What makes you think I didn't?"

"Because you're still such good friends with Melanie."

"We do have two children between us." Leah heard the rattle of coat hangers from the closet and waited for him to come back out. He stepped out in his underwear. "We tried on our own for awhile, but every time I got called to the hospital, she became angrier," he said as he picked up his robe that had been thrown over a chair and pulled it on. "Everywhere we went together, people knew her as Mrs. McIntyre. Then we tried marriage counseling. When she finally had me served with divorce papers, I told her I didn't want a divorce, so we had to go to court, and of course, the court granted her a divorce."

"And that was it?" asked Leah, sitting on the side of the bed.

Trapper snorted as he sat next to her. "What else is there? Melanie wanted her own identity, and she didn't feel she could have one married to me."

"I can understand that. That's why I go by Haverty instead of Lewis."

He moved his arm around her and pulled her into him. "What are you worried about?"

Taking a deep breath, she looked into his eyes, and then feeling her mouth go dry, she licked her lips. "We're frequently at each other's throats, Trapper. I've begun to think that, at some point, you're going to be done with it all." Trapper's mouth dropped open. Looking down at her hands, she said quietly, "I'd rather it end peacefully if it's going to end."

"Who said anything about this ending?" He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "We both have a stubborn streak that runs deep, but we've already begun to figure that out. And you don't have the same problem Melanie had. You're already well known on your own merit. In fact, there are times when I'm the odd man out." Moving his hand to the back of her neck, he brought her close enough to feel her breath on his face, and when his lips found hers, he felt her shiver as she relaxed into him. "I don't want this to end," he said without leaving her lips, and as he kissed her again, he took her down to the bed where they stayed in each other's arms the rest of the night.

"Is it too soft?" asked Trapper.

Leah poked it. "Not by much, but you'll have to do better."

"I'm working on it. What else do we need while we wait?"

Leah looked around. "Your nuts. Where are they?"

He rolled his eyes. "There right there in front of you."

"Geez. How did I miss those? Why don't we check it now and see if it's firm?" He turned to show her, and she poked it again. "Perfect. Oooo. That's hot," she said, smiling. "Put it in."

"Let's get this on top of it," said Trapper.

"It's too hard. You do it."

With a practiced hand, Trapper said, "Here's how you do it. You have to go down the sides first." After another minute, he asked, "Is that enough?"

"No, I need more."

"All right, how about now?" he asked.

"That should just about do it. Now we'll just squeeze…"

Trapper grinned. "Oh yeah. This is the best part."

"And there it goes oozing down the side."

"Careful," said Trapper. "You'll get your fingers sticky. Now see, I told you you'd get sticky."

"Well, I had to catch it before it dripped down too far," she said, licking her finger.

Opening her hand, she said, "I need your nuts." He gave her a handful. "You know, it would be better if these were warm."

"We don't have time. Angela will be here any minute."

"I hope so. It's already starting to droop. I'll put some whipped cream on it."

Trapper lifted it with both hands. "Let's move over here where there's room for all three of us."

They got everything in place just before Angela walked in the door. "Hey, you two. I was just…oh my, that looks…um…huge. I don't know if I can handle that alone."

"You don't have to handle it alone," said Leah. "Come over here with us."

Angela sat down in front of it, running her finger up the side. "Mm. Yummy. But what's the occasion?"

Smiling at each other first, Trapper and Leah both turned to Angela wearing wide grins. "We're celebrating. We think we won the committee over today," said Trapper as he handed out spoons. They each dug into what Leah referred to as the Double Devil; the largest, most decadent fudge brownie sundae Angela had ever seen.

Trapper and Leah had already gotten their tickets for their flight home and had checked in at the gate. Now, they were waiting to board, and since they were flying first class, they would be some of the first to go. Trapper excused himself to speak with a doctor from St. Louis. "Dr. Rose," said Trapper, offering his hand.

"Dr. McIntyre, I must say, your presentation to the committee seemed to be received very well. How'd you do?"

"We were notified yesterday morning that we had won something, but we won't find out how much until next week. A letter will be sent to the hospital administrator."

"Hm. That's rather disappointing. I wasn't notified of anything."

"I wouldn't give up just yet. They may yet be notifying others since they haven't decided who gets what."

"You know if you do start the microvascular education program, I'd be interested in sending some of my surgeons."

"Just give me a call," said Trapper with a wide smile. "If we get what we asked for, that will be one of the first things we start. It just happens to be the easiest. "

Leah kept her eyes on Trapper. She needed to speak with Angela alone, and was afraid she might not have the chance before they were called for boarding. "Angela, I need you to do something for me," she said as she passed an envelope to her.

"What's this?"

"I need you to get this to Trapper if something happens to me."

Angela sat bolt upright with her brows furrowed fearfully. "Like what?"

Exhaling a quiet chuckle, Leah smiled. "Don't get upset. I've changed my trust where if I die or become incapacitated, Trapper gets everything. I just don't want it to come from Albert. He'll be…all business. I want him to hear it from me, so to speak. And there are instructions about some things I want him to make sure happen; like the children's wing at the hospital." She bit her lip, knowing she was about to open a can of worms and hoping they would be called for boarding so she wouldn't have to explain anything. "And if something suspicious happens, it will give Trapper a place to start looking."

Angela sprang to her feet and glared down at Leah. "What?" The tone and volume of that one word turned every head in the waiting area, including Trapper's.

"Excuse me, Dr. Rose. I need to see what that's about." Patting Dr. Rose on the shoulder, he hurried back to where they had been waiting together. "What's going on?"

Looking up pleadingly at Angela, Leah slightly shook her head. "Nothing, Trapper. Girl talk. You wouldn't understand," she explained without taking her eyes away from Angela's.

"First call for boarding Flight 201 to St. Louis; all first class passengers."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Leah stood and gathered the items she was carrying on board. "Angela, I'll call you when we get back to San Francisco, though it might be tomorrow."

"You'd better or I'll be calling you." She leaned in and gave Leah a hug and kiss, and then gave Trapper a bear hug to which he responded with a quick kiss on her lips. "I have to say I'm very proud of you both. You represented yourselves well, and I think most everyone enjoyed meeting you except for maybe the few who were your real competition. Let me know how much you get."

"We will," said Trapper with a wide smile, ushering Leah through the gate. "And thank you for the help and the hospitality."


	90. Chapter 90

**Chapter Ninety**

For the majority of the flight, Trapper busied himself in discussions about experiences with the latest surgical techniques with several other doctors who he'd met in Washington and were traveling on the same flight. They all departed his company in St. Louis to catch their connecting flights home. Trapper and Leah didn't have to change planes. This flight would be flying directly to San Francisco.

When Trapper brought Leah's hand to his lips, she turned away from the window where she had been staring out for most of the leg to St. Louis. "You've been awfully quiet."

She giggled. "Your conversation with those other doctors wasn't exactly something I could keep up with." Turning back to the window, she sighed. "Do you ever wonder what Heaven is like when you're up in an airplane above the clouds?"

"You mean the idea of what it would be like to sleep on one of those light, fluffy clouds. Sorry, kiddo. You'd fall right through."

"You don't generally think in quixotic terms, do you?" she asked, feigning annoyance.

"I don't go chasing after windmills, if that's what you mean."

"Well, I do, especially when I'm up here…closer." She bowed her head. "It seems so, anyway." Looking back out the window, she added, "I wonder if it's true that when you die you see your loved ones, and nothing bad ever happens again."

"We'll probably never know the answer to that question until we die. Maybe we should swap seats."

She turned and found him gazing at her with a worrisome expression, then patted his leg. "That wouldn't be fair to whoever is going to occupy the seat across the aisle. You're much more interesting to talk to than I." When his look didn't change, she wrinkled her nose. "You worry too much. I'm fine right where I am."

"When we get home, I don't want to tell anyone we're there just yet. I want an evening all to ourselves before we dive back in."

Leaning into him, she bowed her head, but looked up into his eyes wearing a provocative smile. "And just what do you have in mind?"

Trapper moved his lips next to her ear, and before he began to tell her about their evening, he nibbled her earlobe and lightly touched her neck with a kiss. "Oh, dinner at L'Ardoise followed by slow dancing in front of the cinnabar lacquer screen after which we will go upstairs and imbibe a 1939 Warre port while we share dark Belgian chocolate, and then end with or, depending on how you look at it, begin an excess of erotic…nocturnal… delights."

Leah sat holding her breath. Her eyelids became heavy until they closed with an intense blush that reverberated through her body. Trapper watched expectantly until she finally let the breath out slowly through her open mouth, eliciting a satisfied smile from him. He leaned over her and pushed the recline button on the arm of her seat, then said slowly in a deep, low voice, "Now, why don't you just lay back, close your eyes , relax, and think about that for awhile."

Leah and Trapper lay in each other's arms, Trapper with his face buried at the side of her neck, both breathing deeply and evenly in the fading intensity of intimacy. Resting on his arms, he was careful to protect her from his weight. When he rose up to look into her eyes, they were closed.

Still, she felt his warm breath on her face and smiled. "You were on a plane most of the day, then dinner, dancing and now…how long have we been up here? Where do you find the energy?" Leah felt his amusement; a rumble rising from deep within his chest that stayed deep when it touched his lips.

"A man can do anything he desires given the right motivation." He kissed her forehead, moving down her nose to her cheeks, her chin, and finally, ingratiating himself at her lips.

"Are you going to let me up? Opening her eyes, she found his blissfully twinkling at her and giggled. "Or is there something else you want from me?"

He settled himself more comfortably, planning to stay right where he was as long as it took. "There is."

Placing her hands on his arms, feeling his biceps hard and defined beneath them, she slowly moved them up to his shoulders close to his neck and began kneading. "And what could you possibly want that warrants my captivity?"

"Your undivided attention first and foremost."

Her hands stopped kneading, and her eyes took on a cautiously curious squint. "Go on."

"I've been thinking lately about how nice it would be to come home every night with someone else who belonged here." He felt her take a breath and waited for her to let it out. She didn't. "I would like you to call this house your home…our home…as my wife."

Her eyes instantly moved away from his, and that breath she had been holding came out all at once through her mouth, but she managed a nervous giggle. "You said you'd never marry again…that it costs too much."

He laughed almost silently. "Somehow, I don't think that will ever be a consideration for us."

"How can you say that as much as we fight?" she asked, trying to push him off of her.

"You know you'll never be able to do that, don't you?" She sneered, and he dove into her neck, staying close to her ear. "We have an agreement. Discussions about work stay at the hospital. We don't fight about anything else."

With a look of desperation, she stared up at the ceiling as he continued plying his subterfuge at her earlobe. "Do you honestly believe that won't carry over?"

"I love you. Marry me," came his muffled reply from the side of her head.

"Trapper, this is…I need time."

"For what?"

"To think."

"Don't think. Listen to your heart." He rose up and looked from her eyes to her lips. "Just follow your heart," he whispered just before he kissed her lips, refusing to stop and letting the passion grow until she was breathless. With their lips still touching, he breathed the words, "Marry me." Reaching over to the nightstand, he pulled open the drawer and drew out the small black box he had been carrying around with him for weeks now. He removed the ring with two fingers as he held the box with the others and tossed the box to the floor. Taking her left hand, he moved it between their faces and slipped the ring on her finger.

With her chin quivering, she opened her mouth, and then closed it, folding her lips into a tight line. Never had she thought that getting married again was an option for her. She'd thought she'd found the love of her life in John, and when the children came, she was sure of it.

"You're thinking, aren't you? You're not supposed to be thinking."

She smiled absently. Was Angela right? Did she really have a second chance at that kind of love? "John, what if I…what if my heart…"

"You're heart is healthy. There's no reason to believe it won't stay that way. But if something does happen I'll take whatever time we have."

Moving her hand up into the air, she studied it and smiled at the single stone set on top of a thin band of gold. As a tear ran down the side of her face, she said softly, "It's beautiful."


	91. Chapter 91

**Chapter Ninety-One**

Sitting at the breakfast table with her head propped on her hand, Leah pushed her eggs around on her plate.

"It can't be the eggs. No one can mess up scrambled eggs."

She glanced up at him, sighed, and put a bite in her mouth, chewing slowly. "I'm not going to wear the ring just yet. I'd like to get used to the idea before anyone else finds out."

"You know, you're not making me feel very confident." He took a drink of orange juice, then continued eating. "You look like someone just died."

This time she gave him an earnest smile and reached out for his hand. "It's not that. I'm…"

"I know," he interrupted, taking her hand and returning her smile. "You're thinking. That's against your doctor's orders, you know. Look, I've got it all planned. There'll be a celebration when Arnold finds out how much of the grant the hospital will receive. We'll have a more private celebration party here with our closest friends invited, and they'll think it's because of the grant. That's when we'll tell them."

"Do you have our wedding planned, too?"

He chuckled. "No."

"Good. Because I don't want a big wedding, I don't want caterers and planners and…I don't want the hassle. Do you?"

"No." This time the smile that touched his lips and eyes made her blush. "Why don't we have a quiet ceremony at Antonio's? They have a private garden. After that, we can have dinner there. Just a few of our friends."

She perked up, thought for a moment, and then let a calm smile move over her face. "That sounds nice."

"Good. I'll call Antonio today and see what the calendar looks like. Are you finished? It's time to go." He gathered his dishes and waited for her answer before he took hers.

Before he could, she handed them to him. "I have to run upstairs for a minute. " She headed out of the kitchen, stopped and turned back. "Do you have a safe?"

"No."

"Then I'll be two minutes," she yelled as she ran up the stairs.

The minute Trapper and Leah stepped into the hospital lobby, the receptionist rushed over to meet them. "Mr. Slocum would like to see you both in his office first thing," she said.

Trapper smiled and offered his thanks, then guided Leah with a hand on her back to the elevator. "Don't you want to, at least, take your satchel and work to your office," Leah asked as they both turned to face forward in the lift.

"I'll leave them in your office and get them on the way back down."

"What do you think this is about?"

"Arnold probably wants to know how we think we did. I'll bet he's as anxious as a teenager going on his first date." As that picture materialized in his mind, he laughed.

After stopping by Leah's office on the executive floor, they walked to the end of the hall and knocked on Arnold's door. Hearing permission to enter, they opened the door, but stepped back at the loud "hip hip hooray!" that roared out of the room.

With dumbfounded looks on their faces, they were dragged in. Leah looked over at Trapper. "You don't suppose he's already heard from the committee, do you?"

Laughing, he answered, "It appears so."

With the two standing in the middle of all the smiling faces, including several members of the board, Gonzo, Dr. Riverside, all the other department heads, Ernie, Gloria and a select group of nurses, Arnold began to read the grant committee's awards. "It appears that some of the money was spread out widely, let's see…the University of California in Davis got five hundred thousand for DNA research…here's a big one…George Washington got one million for an MRI machine and three million to complete their laser surgery center. Duke University School of Medicine got two million to establish a microvascular curriculum. Omaha Children's Hospital got one million for an MRI machine. San Francisco Memorial got two million for two MRI machines."

Applause erupted, and Leah and Trapper smiled disappointedly at one another, both hoping they had gotten more for their efforts.

"Brookdale in New York, Cambridge Health in Massachusetts, St Vincent's in Alabama, Baylor Health Systems in Texas and Saint Anthony's in Colorado all received five hundred thousand for travel and training in microvascular surgery to be performed by San Francisco Memorial who got three million to set up and execute the program. It seems everyone who asked for money for microvascular training did so under the assumption that someone else would be doing the training. San Francisco Memorial was the only institution who showed any interest in offering the training."

Another applause began as Leah and Trapper exhaled a sigh of relief, both satisfied considering what everyone else had received.

"That just about covers the distribution of the grant money available," said Arnold.

Trapper creased his eyebrows, cocking his head at Arnold. He had been adding it all up in his head. "What happened to the other ten million?"

Arnold smiled and set the piece of paper he'd been reading on his desk. "Due to the vision of Dr. John McIntyre, Chief of Surgery, and the technical strength of Ms. Leah Haverty, Chief Information Officer, and her team backing him up, the committee feels that the needs of the country in the new field of laser surgery is best served by the location, ease of travel and the team of dedicated professionals at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Seven million dollars goes to build, equip and staff the new laser surgery center at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Three million dollars goes to increase digital storage capacity to support the anticipated increase in patients and the new educational programs."

A wide grin appeared on Trapper's face as he shook the offered hands around him. Leah bowed her head into her hands as those behind her squeezed her shoulders or gave her a pat on her back. Turning around, Trapper leaned back to see the forward view of her rather than the top of her head, moving his hands to her arms. "Leah?"

Looking up with a laugh and a triumphant smile, she stepped into Trapper's warm embrace and squealed as Trapper lifted her feet off the floor.

Arnold shouted over the din of excitement in the room as trays of glasses were carried into the crowd. "Champagne for everyone!"

By midday, Trapper had gone through all the mail and reports that waited for him on his desk, separating them into piles by priority. After looking at the first three, he sat back and looked at the stacks of paper, deciding he would start in earnest after lunch. On his way to Leah's office, he was stopped several times by members of the hospital staff wanting to congratulate him after hearing news of the grant from their department heads.

Leah had glass windows at the front of her office that were usually covered by blinds. Today, the blinds were open. Trapper watched before he knocked on her door, dismayed at the piles of paper he saw on her desk…and behind her on her credenza. She was sitting back in her chair with an open file resting on her crossed knee, holding a piece of paper in one hand while her other elbow was propped on the chair arm, and her other hand was spinning a pencil up close to her ear. She'd stop spinning the pencil every now and then and write something on the paper she was reading.

He tapped on the glass, and though she sat up in the chair and turned her body, it took her another minute to take her eyes of the paper. When she saw him, an instant smile appeared on her lips as she nodded at the door.

"What's so interesting?" he asked as he entered the office.

"I have a lot to do. So do you. But I need to be way ahead of you so the systems are in place to support what you need to do when you do it."

He chuckled and looked over the piles. "What is all this?"

As she pointed to each stack of paper, she explained what they were. "These are resumes split by candidates for technical lead, programmer/analysts, computer operators, library attendants, hardware support, and desktop support. These are all the change requests we got from the departments in priority order. These are the current schematics, and these are blanks because I have to draw some new ones for the silo, and these are forms for ordering the equipment that I'll fill out as I do the new schematics. That first stack over on my table is work that David and my staff did while I was out that I need to review, and the second stack is all the information I've gathered for the children's wing."

"And the one you're holding?"

"Ah, this. This is the final settlement from the logging company. Albert wants me to sign it and overnight it back to him."

Trapper looked down at the open folder she set on the desk. "You haven't signed it."

Taking a deep breath, she flipped the folder closed. "No, I haven't. I chose to read it first. That might have been a mistake."

Taking her hand, he pulled her from behind her desk. "Come with me. It's time for a break."

"Trapper, I really don't have time for…"

"For me?" he interrupted.

She gave him a wide-eyed stare. "I didn't mean…"

"What you meant was that you are going to take time for breakfast every morning…" he took her hand and led her out of her office, "…a break between breakfast and lunch, lunch, and an afternoon break, and then you are going to leave work behind on time and go home with your husband."

"Ssh! Someone might hear you."

"I don't care." He twirled her into his arms once they were in the elevator, reached around her and pushed the button, and then kissed her until the elevator slowed, stepping away from her just as the door's opened.

"You'll be eating those words within a week. People will be coming out of the woodwork to congratulate you. You'll care then."

Glancing at her over the top of his glasses, he motioned for her to step in the cafeteria line in front of him, and then followed her to a table. "We need to have the party at the house soon," he said, cutting his sandwich in half.

"Why so soon?"

He looked up at her and hesitated, then continued cutting his sandwich. "Because Arnold has already announced the grant, so a celebration party needs to happen fairly quickly. I can reserve a room and the patio at Antonio's for the following week."

She had just brought her sandwich to her mouth, but stopped.

"Why wait?" he asked, answering her open mouth.

Putting her sandwich back on her plate without taking a bite, she leaned back, wrapped her arms around herself and looked away.

With a mouthful, he explained. "Leah, work isn't going to slow down, especially for you with those piles of paper you already have in your office. If we don't do this now, we might not get another chance. Now, who do you want to invite?"

She continued to look toward the windows. "To the party or to the wedding?"

"There you go again. We're not planning a funeral. What's wrong?"

Looking back at him, she raised her hand to her mouth and bounced her fist on her puckered lips. Thoughts of Doug Manning still crept up in her mind. "I was hoping I'd have a chance to get used to the idea before the reality of it. But you're right. There will never be a good time once all these projects get started." She quickly glanced up at him. "Unless…"

He had raised his glass of soda to his mouth, but stopped. "Unless what?"

"Unless we both retire," she said, twisting her mouth. "We can afford it."

Still frozen in place, he asked, "You're kidding, aren't you? You have to be because neither one of us is ready to retire. After the first month, we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves." Her eyebrows shot up. Exhaling heavily through his nose, he set his glass down. "Look, you and I are alike in that respect. We do what we do because we're driven to it. Neither one of us would be happy without it at this point in our lives."

"Dr. McIntyre to emergency stat. Dr. McIntyre to emergency stat."

Looking up at the ceiling, he tightened his lips and swore under his breath. "We'll talk about it tonight." He stood and leaned over the table to kiss her. "Think about who you want to invite," he said, rushing out the door.

She watched him go wondering if this was how her life would be…always putting things on hold while watching him run to his next emergency. And then, there was Doug. Would Doug try to get revenge because of Xanda and his dismissal from the committee, and if he did, would he dare to come after Trapper?


	92. Chapter 92

**Chapter Ninety-Two**

Trapper pushed through the door of the exam room to find a very pregnant patient flanked by two doctors. "What have we got?" he asked, stepping to the end of the bed.

Stanley read the chart. "Thirty-two year-old, around thirty-six weeks, having contractions. But look at this, John."

Moving over to the right side of the bed, Trapper looked at the top right of the woman's belly where Stanley indicated. "Looks like abdominal distension with hepatomegaly," he said, palpating the area. "How's her blood pressure?"

"Ninety over sixty-two."

Picking up her hand, he looked at her fingernails. "Is the blood work back from the lab?"

"No, not yet."

"All right, let me know when it is. I'm looking for anemia, low platelets and elevated liver enzymes."

"What do you think?" asked Stanley.

Trapper leaned on the bed with his hands on the short rails and looked Stanley in the eye. "I hope I'm wrong, but it looks like a ruptured liver. Let's get a CT scan of the upper right quadrant. Who's her OB/GYN?"

"Howard Davies, but he's out of the country."

"Get Angela Reyes down here. It could be time for this baby to meet the world. If the CT scan comes back positive, we won't have much time."

Stan nodded at the nurse, who left the room. "For mother or baby?"

Heading for the door, Trapper turned back. "Both. Is her family here?"

"Husband…Miller…in the waiting room," answered Stanley while writing in her chart.

Trapper stopped at the nurse's station and found Gloria on shift. "Gloria, I need an OR, I need Ernie to set up for liver repair or lobectomy, and I need a delivery setup." Without stopping, he continued on to the waiting room. "Mr. Miller?"

A young man stood up and walked toward Trapper. "Here."

"Mr. Miller, I'm Dr. McIntyre…"

"Are Liz and the baby all right?"

Moving a hand to Miller's shoulder, Trapper walked him out of the waiting room and down the hall to the alcove by the water fountains. "Mr. Miller, was your wife having contractions when you brought her in?"

Miller furrowed his brow. "Yes. That's why I brought her in."

"Is this her first child?"

"We've lost one before…in the first trimester. That was five years ago. Dr. McIntyre, are you an OB/GYN?"

"No," said Trapper, smiling. "I'm a cardiothoracic surgeon. I was called because of some unusual pain your wife is experiencing. She has some swelling on her right side above her stomach which I believe is a problem with her liver."

Mr. Miller fell back against the wall. "God, no."

"I'm waiting on a CT scan to confirm that, but I want to prepare you and her in case we have to go in."

"Go in! She's pregnant. How are you going to go in?"

"Now calm down. She's almost due. If there is a problem with her liver, we'll do a vertical cesarean section, and then go in right after to take care of her liver."

"Take care of her liver…what does that mean?"

"Because of the swelling, I believe it may be ruptured, and if so we'll have to do some repairs. If it is ruptured and we can't stop the bleeding, we may have to take part of it…" Miller sucked in a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "But she can live a normal life with a partial liver. Now, I need you to sign some consent forms. We won't do anything until we get her blood work and CT scan back to confirm the diagnosis, but if this is a ruptured liver, we have to act fast to get the bleeding stopped."

"Of course…anything. Just tell me where I need to go."

"Come with me. I'll have one of the nurses go over the forms with you." When they got back to the nurse's station, Trapper introduced him to another nurse there, and added finding Gonzo to Gloria's list.

When Leah sat down in front of her desk, the first thing she did was write her list. Angela Bedford, Albert Shaefer, Leo and Carlotta Costa, and Ernestine Shoop. She sighed, moved the list to her lap drawer and pulled a stack of paperwork in front of her. First on her list were the change requests from the hospital departments. She needed to ensure her people had adequate work during the system updates for the silo. Picking up the phone, she dialed David Stern who was still acting technical lead. "David, this is Leah. Would you please come up to my office? I have some work I'd like to discuss with you. Yes, now."

Sitting back in her chair and bouncing the eraser of her pencil gently on her lips, she thought back to how the conversation ended in the cafeteria. As he had done so many times before, he stopped talking and eating, kissed her and left for whatever emergency needed his expertise this time. But did it matter? Wouldn't she have done the same if there had been a problem in the data center? In their positions of authority, this was normal. Why did it bother her?

Then Doug Manning crept in again. Something about him had frightened her this time. She certainly knew him to be a vengeful man. She had seen him in action numerous times during her employment with Manning Consulting. But that was along the lines of career assassination; something she knew he wouldn't get away with in her case, and something he wouldn't be able to even begin with Trapper. Was he capable of doing physical harm though?

She was still shaking her head when David tapped on the door. Turning her chair forward, she put on a smile. "David, please come in. You and I have a great deal to talk about."

Gonzo stepped beside Trapper at the scrub sinks just as Trapper was shaking the water off his hands. "Glad you could join us," said Trapper, nodding toward Ernie who had just finished washing.

"Sorry. I just finished a peritoneal port for a dialysis patient. I guess it's a good thing I don't have to go to the little boy's room."

Trapper opened his mouth to make a remark, but closed it and shook his head. "Dr. Reyes is already in the OR preparing for a C-section. You and I are going to take over after the child is separated from the mother and repair a ruptured liver. Take a good long look at the CT scan when you go in. The rupture at the far right of the right lobe was probably caused by the labor contractions."

Trapper pushed backwards through the doors where a nurse was waiting with gloves, mask and surgical robe. Ernie was right behind him, and once she donned the appropriate garb, she began to assemble her tray.

Trapper moved behind the end of the table where Dr. Reyes had just completed the cesarean incision. "How are you doing, Dr. Reyes?"

A smile touched her eyes. "We're ready to take the baby. Would you like to assist?"

"I don't often get to deliver babies. It would be my pleasure," he said, returning the smile.

"All right. I'm going to reach in and pull the baby out. I need you to watch the incision and help all the body parts come through smoothly, and then you can cut and clip the umbilical cord. Here we go."

As cesareans go, this particular one turned out to be fairly routine. There was a small celebration as the umbilical cord was cut and the baby was passed to the waiting hands of a nurse. Once Dr. Reyes had sutured the uterus, she turned the patient over to Trapper and his team.

"Get me a fresh pair of gloves," he said as he turned for the current ones to be removed. He looked from Gonzo to Ernie. "Everyone ready?" Receiving nods, he asked the anesthesiologist, "How's her pressure?"

"One ten over sixty."

"Not bad. How many units have you used?"

"Still on the first one. I have three more available."

"All right, let's see what we can see with this incision. Tissue retractors." Before he finished his request, Ernie had placed them firmly in his hand. He glanced at her, and though she couldn't see because of his mask, he turned up the corner of his mouth. "Gonzo, do you see what I see?"

"Yeah. It looks like a mass, but there's a lot of blood around it. Hemangiomas don't usually bleed."

"Mm hm. It's definitely not what caused the distension. Move suction to the right," he said as he lifted the mass. "There's the rupture…behind the mass." He groaned. "We're going to have to remove the mass before we can repair the rupture. "I'll resect. You suture behind me."

By the time Trapper walked back into his office, it was seven in the evening. The liver resection had taken longer than he would have liked. With both he and Gonzo working together, they still had trouble stopping the bleeding, but finally managed. He spent another hour with Mr. Miller explaining the procedure, complications and recovery. At least the young man had the baby, who was doing remarkably well, to smile about.

He walked into his private bathroom and splashed water on his face, then went to his desk to find a note sitting dead center. _Trapper, I've taken a cab to the pool house. If it's not too late when you leave, come by…if you want. I'll be in bed by eleven. I put your sandwich from lunch in your mini-fridge, just in case you didn't have a chance to eat dinner. –L_

He smiled at first, but his smile slowly faded. "If I want?" Tossing his slacks, shirt and tie over his arm, he left the paperwork that awaited him on his desk as well as the sandwich in the fridge and left the hospital.


	93. Chapter 93

**Chapter Ninety-Three**

Leah stood at the rail of her deck comfortable in white tights and a white off-shoulder top, looking out over the inky ocean and the barely visible beach in the darkness below the cliff on which she resided. There had been rain this evening leaving behind lingering clouds, and before that, a fog bank had threatened to roll in, but instead hung out there just off the coast. To her right, she could still see the light at Point Bonita Lighthouse dutifully flashing, its light reaching out across the expanse of water until it hit the fog and stopped as if it had hit something solid.

She loved the salt smell of the cool breeze that accompanied the storms coming in from the marine layer. This peaceful view and the clean, crisp air had been the lure that made it easy to leave the hospital each night. She had no idea how she would get by without it.

Earlier that evening, Albert had called to tell her that Doug Manning had sold his consulting business and left the country. Since he had received her frantic call from Washington, he had Manning closely watched by his network of business associates who knew other business associates who knew the right people to get just about any job done. Without any fanfare at all, Manning had just up and left, having been able to sell his homes and his company quickly…too quickly for there not to have been some pre-planning. The reason he left in addition to his destination were still unknown. Albert had told her to sit tight. They didn't know anything yet. But how could she go on with business as usual without knowing?

Standing with her eyes closed, letting the salt breeze wash over her, Leah couldn't shake the niggling in the back of her mind that he wasn't through with her. She'd humiliated Doug; two very public humiliations, and he was too proud and too sure of himself to just disappear and lick his wounds.

Then there were her unanswered calls to Angela. Leah had left so many messages on Angela's answering machine that she filled it, and it had remained filled.

She was struggling with the decision to tell Trapper her fears, but was leaning toward not. The less he knew, the safer he would be if Manning was up to something.

She heard the gate monitor beep. "Leah, it's Trapper. I'm coming in."

Blowing out through her mouth, she left her bottom lip jutting out, wondering how she was going to hide her worries from Trapper.

When he turned the corner, she was still leaning against the rail and watched him with a smile as he veered inside the open sliders, throwing his clothes on the sofa and returning to the deck, stepping behind her, leaning into her and moving his arms around her so that his head was right next to hers. "If I want?"

"Well, I didn't know how tired you'd be after surgery." She turned in his arms to face him, rubbing her hands over his chest and up the front of his shoulders. "I thought, perhaps, you'd go home and get some rest, but I see you didn't even take time to remove your greens."

"I don't think I'd get much rest in an empty house. Not anymore, anyway," he said with the corners of his mouth upturned, his nostrils flared and a puckish gleam in his eyes as he bent his head for a light, playful set of kisses. "I thought you liked my greens."

Breathing in deeply, wearing a sated smile, she thought how wonderful life could be with Trapper without complications. "Hm. I do. How's your patient?"

"Mother and baby are doing fine."

"Mother…baby? They called you for a delivery?"

"The mother had a ruptured liver. Dr. Reyes took the baby by C-section, and then Gonzo and I repaired her liver. She'll be fine. She just needs to rest."

"Did you get something to eat?"

"No. Did you?" She bowed her head to hide her wince, and then glanced up at him quickly. Taking her hand, he led her into the house. "Let's go see what's in your refrigerator."

"Let's see," she said, bending to look into the fridge. "We have chicken that I need to cook because it's already thawed, cheese and cream." She pulled everything out and went to the cabinet. "We're in luck. I have some fettuccini." Spinning around, she asked, "How do you feel about Chicken Alfredo?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Did I see broccoli in there?"

"Yes, you did. Are you trying to make a heart attack on a plate healthier?" she teased with a cheeky smile. Rolling his eyes, he opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the broccoli.

"The broccoli was a good idea. I don't feel as guilty."

Trapper rolled fettuccini onto his fork then speared a piece of chicken. "You planned this meal for yourself?"

She watched him put his forkful in his mouth. "How could you possibly chew all that?" He shrugged. "Yes. I was going to eat my way to a heart attack." Halting his chewing, he sat rigid, prompting her to hold up her hand. "Kidding. Don't choke on it, please. The truth is I was going to try to make a cheesecake from scratch. The chicken and broccoli were going to be dinner."

"Did you have a chance to work on your list?"

"That took all of two minutes," she said, twirling pasta onto her fork into a much daintier bite than his. "I only have a few close friends I'd care to invite…Albert, Angela, Leo and Carlotta and Ernie. I thought about inviting Dr. Sandler, but I wasn't sure it'd be appropriate."

"I'll invite David if you'd like him to be there. He's a colleague, but I think it would do him good to see how things ended up." He glanced up and reached for his wine. "Uh…how would you feel if I invited Melanie?"

Furrowing her brows, she glanced away for a moment. "Why would you invite your ex-wife?"

"Melanie and I are friends. We've even met…occasionally."

"Met? Met how?" she asked, folding her lips to suppress smile.

He glared. "Met."

Biting her lip, she raised her brows and nodded. "So…who's on your list?"

"Arnold, Stanley…Ernie…Gloria, Gonzo, Aunt Minnie, my sister, Maureen, a couple of fishing buddies, and a few doctors and their wives. I don't think there will be more than twenty-five between us."

"Well, anyone local can come to the party, but that won't include Albert and Angela. I'd hate for them to have to travel all this way twice." She pushed away from the small table on the deck. "I'm done." Picking up her wine, she walked back to the rail."

Trapper pushed his chair back away from the table, crossed his legs and studied her. "Is something else bothering you?"

"Something else?" she asked without turning around. "What could be bothering me? It's all falling into place, isn't it?"

"Every bride I've known who's actually gone through with it was positively giddy. You don't seem too happy."

"Perhaps I'm just lamenting leaving all this," she replied, waving her hand across the waterscape in front of her. "Do you realize the kind of peace I find leaning on this rail? When it's raining, I find the same peace standing on the other side of the sliding glass doors looking out on all this. When I'm not looking, even the sound is soothing. It calms my overactive brain," she said, ending with a chuckle.

He startled her when he moved his arms around her waist, then waited for her to shift her lean against him so he could rest his chin at the side of her head. "We don't have to give this place up. We could stay at the house on work days and come here on the weekends. Or better yet, we could buy a place of our own on the coast…find a small, quiet, isolated cottage."

"Where would we find that here?"

"We wouldn't. We'd have to look somewhere else."

"We could buy a boat instead."

A satisfied grunt escaped him. "I like the way you think."

They stood silent for awhile enjoying the feel of the crisp breeze and the sound of the waves as the fog slowly made its way to shore.

"What about your kids?"

Taking a deep breath, he tightened his arms around her. "Kim, maybe. I don't know if JT will come."

"Why?" she asked, twisting her neck so she could look up at his face.

Trapper chuckled. "Let's just say, he's feeling his independence out from underneath his father's thumb."

Turning her head back to the view, she nestled closer into to him. "You should invite him anyway. Both of them."

"I don't know if I'd want to surprise them that way. They've never met you. It could be awkward."

"For you...or me, or them?"

"All of the above." She didn't see the smile on his face and had no way of knowing the contentment he was feeling at that moment because she remembered his children.

"Wouldn't it be better to invite them instead of shocking them with the introduction of your wife after the fact?"

He grimaced. She was right. They needed the chance to meet her before she was thrown into their lives. "Maybe we could ask them to dinner. JT's local, but Kim would have to fly down. We'll have the party, then dinner with the kids, and after that, we'll get married. Okay?" he asked, looking down on her as she looked up at him with a smile. A quick kiss sealed the agreement.


	94. Chapter 94

**Chapter Ninety-Four**

Trapper left a message for Leah to come to his office when she had the time. He was ordering lunch in and invited her to join him while he made phone calls for caterers, a minister, and Antonio's. She was in the basement going over the work that had been started while she and Trapper were away in Washington.

"David, these programs will have to be changed. Our databases aren't hierarchical, they're relational. These database searches are assuming everything is in sorted order by key, but it's not. It's last in, first out. You'll have to pass the search up a specific key, and then sweep the database." David didn't say anything, but rather looked at his shoes. "David, I'm not the principal, and this isn't high school. Can you tell me what happened? You didn't do this. You know how our databases are structured. Who did this?"

"Kevin, but it was at my direction. I should have checked it better before I left it for you."

Her hopes were now dashed that she would be able to rely on David as her lead going forward. A person ready for technical lead wouldn't make that kind of careless mistake. "Yes, you should have. I want you to sit with Kevin and go over the database structure, and then have him redo these. I need them finished by the end of the week. I don't care if you two have to stay late every day to do it. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am," he answered, taking the listings and leaving the large cubical at the end of the row that remained empty other than the times Leah was in the basement.

Feeling a headache coming on, she stroked her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Interviews for technical lead just zoomed to the top of her list when she should really be working on schematics for the new silo. She'd be taking work home with her, which would make a certain doctor very unhappy. Then again, if he expected her to be patient with his long hours, he should be patient with hers.

She winced. His concerns for her health made his reasons more valid than hers. Collecting her paperwork, she left the basement for her office, but was halted by Gloria. "Trapper's been looking for you. He ordered lunch in."

The corner of Leah's mouth turned up. "Thank you, Gloria." Her smile faded as the throb in her head reminded her of not only her headache, but the reason behind the headache.

Trapper's door was open, so she knocked lightly on the door and continued in. "I hear there's lunch in this office."

Looking over his glasses, he grinned and stood, walking around his desk to her. "Where have you been?" he asked before he met her lips with his.

"In the basement." Answering his frown, she said, "I'm surprised you didn't look there."

He smiled and wrinkled his nose. "You don't work in the basement anymore. Why would I look there?"

"Do you go where you need to operate, or do they bring the patient to your office," she said, answering his sarcastic expression with a sneer.

Laughing, he guided her to the credenza behind his desk where lunch waited. "Touché."

Trapper sat at his desk poring over his charts while he ate. Leah sat on the sofa concentrating on her programs and nibbled. Every now and then, she'd close her eyes and rub her temple. The movement caught Trapper's eye time and time again until finally, he removed his glasses and turned his chair toward her. "Leah?"

"Hm?" she grunted without looking up from her listings.

"Is there something wrong with your head?"

She quickly looked up. "What kind of question is that?"

"You're squinting and rubbing your temples. Do you have a headache?"

"Yes, I do," she answered, returning to her work. "But I can't take just anything because of my other meds, so I just deal with it. More than likely, it's tension. I had to dress down David earlier today, and that's when it started." She sighed. "As a matter of fact, I really need to put these programs down and get started on hiring a new technical lead." Gathering her paperwork and moving her plate to the top of the stack, she headed for the door, smiling back sweetly. "See you later. Oh. Thanks for lunch."

He shook his head, laughing. "Do you think that's going to work? Leah? Leah!"

Friday night came much too soon for either Trapper or Leah considering how far they were behind from their excursion to Washington. Things were getting done, but slowly.

"Leah, are you ready to go?" asked Trapper as he stepped into her office without knocking. "Oh, excuse me. I didn't know you had someone with you."

"Andy Randall, this is Dr. McIntyre, our Chief of Surgery. Dr. McIntyre, Andy is interviewing for the technical lead position on my staff."

Trapper nodded. "Leah, I hate to interrupt, be we have an appointment."

Stepping around her desk, she took Trapper's arm and began pushing him out the door. "Andy, would you excuse me for just a minute?" As soon as the door was closed, she turned. "Trapper, you'll have to go on without me."

His brows danced in annoyance. "The caterers? The party?"

Wrapping her arm in his, she walked him toward the elevator. "I just have to finish this interview, and then I have one more after that. I'll be there shortly. Just show the caterers to the kitchen. They'll know what to do."

"I can't make an announcement if you're not there."

"John," she said, moving her eyes up to his and wearing a captivating smile. "Everything will be fine. No one is expecting this, so it doesn't matter if you tell them at the beginning, in the middle or at the end. Anyway, I'll be there before any of our guests arrive. Now bend down here and kiss me, so I can go get these interviews done."

When he did, the kiss he received was more than normally would have been acceptable in the hall of the executive suite, but considering the lateness of the afternoon, he indulged her and then with a crooked smile, watched her walk away.

Leah drove down Steiner Street, grimacing at the number of cars that lined the street in front of the house. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she arrived in front of Trapper's house and let it out when she found the driveway empty. Gathering her purse and briefcase, she trotted up the front steps and tried the door. It wasn't locked, so she stepped in, only to see Trapper standing in the kitchen rubbing the back of his neck. He saw her in the entry way and hurried to her, looking down at his watch.

"It's been two hours. Are you all right?" Taking her briefcase, he leaned a little further and gave her a quick kiss.

"I'm fine. I was able to get hold of two of Andy's references, and both were really good recommendations, so I hired him. I had to do the second interview, but all I could offer was the programmer job. He's thinking about it. Is anyone here yet?"

"Our guests are just starting to arrive. And the kitchen is a disaster."

She smiled. "If you'll put my briefcase by the desk, I'll just run upstairs and freshen up, and then I'll take care of the kitchen, while you answer the door." She moved her hand to his cheek and tiptoed into another kiss, this time a much longer one that got him to smile. "Now relax. I'll take care of the caterers."

Ernie walked up behind Trapper. "I couldn't help over hearing. You're usually unflappable. Why are you so nervous?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Is something going on besides the grants?"

Moving his arm around her shoulders, he said, "What else could possibly be going on other than Leah's late, and the caterers are wreaking havoc in my kitchen?"

"Caterers, Dr. McIntyre, could never fluster you before tonight. Now what's going on?"

He smiled. "I'm going back to the kitchen and sending out some drinks."

As Trapper arranged for trays to start circulating between answering the door, Leah rushed into the kitchen right into his arms. "Whoa, girl. It's too crowded in here for you to be moving that fast."

She giggled. "Sorry. But I don't know anyone else I'd rather run into," she said happily tiptoeing and giving him a peck on this lips.

"Well, it's nice to see you so cheerful considering the real reason for this party," he replied, kissing her back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you have seemed a bit depressed about getting married."

Her brows arched. "Did I say no?"

"Well, no. But you didn't exactly say yes, either. You haven't even been wearing the ring."

"Not true." She pulled a chain around her neck out of her blouse and dangled the ring in front of him. Dropping the chain, she threw her arms around his neck. "Yes," she said, laughing. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," she continued with a kiss somewhere on his face between each word. She didn't stop until he was laughing loudly.

"Okay, okay," he said, still laughing. "You're going to give it away. There's someone at the door. Oh," he said, turning back. "Did you get in touch with Angela today?"

Leah frowned. "No. And her answering machine is still full. Maybe she went somewhere for the weekend."

"That's probably it. I wouldn't worry about it."

While Trapper entertained their guests, Leah organized the kitchen. "You there," she said to the person shouting orders. "Find someone to drive down to the store on the corner and buy four twenty-pound bags of ice." She pulled a twenty out of her pocket and placed it in his hands. "There's a galvanized wash tub right outside the back door. Bring it in here, take the white wine and champagne out of the refrigerator, put them in the tub, and ice them down. Put a few bottles of each in the freezer to start chilling. That should leave room in the refrigerator for the food. Lay a few bottles of the Merlot on top of the ice, and when you use one, replace it with another. Set the rest of the reds on the back porch. They'll be too warm sitting in this kitchen. I want trays of food and drinks continuously circulating."

"What if we run out of ice?"

"I gave you a twenty. Go get more," she said on her way out of the kitchen.

Trapper saw her come out of the kitchen and called her over to the group he was standing with. "I'd like you all to meet Leah Haverty, the hospital's CIO and technical genius. This is Bill and Evelyn Bower. Bill is Chief of Surgery at Bay General. And this is Boyd and Maggie Stephens. Boyd is the County Medical Examiner."

Leah shook hands with everyone. "I'm so glad you all could come," she said with a smile and an extended hand.

"Ms. Haverty, I've been working on Trapper here to let us borrow you for awhile," said Dr. Bower. "The people installing our computer system are having issues."

"Well, all installations don't always go according to plan. I'm had my share of issues, Dr. Bower. Mrs. Bower, I love your bracelet. Blue's my favorite color."

A hand came down hard on Trapper's shoulder, and when he turned, he laughed and gave the owner of the hand a hug. "Davey, glad you could come. This is Dr. and Mrs. Bower from Bay General and Dr. and Mrs. Stephens from the ME's office." He waited for their greetings. "And this is Leah Haverty."

Davey gave her a toothy grin. "So this is the little lady who catches big fish, huh?" Taking her hands in his, he shook them warmly. "Trapper's told us all about you."

She cleared her throat. "Us?"

"Oh, I fish with him. Well, not anymore. Seems he's saving his fishing days for you."

Taking the man's arm, Leah stepped between him and Trapper. "Well, if you fellas don't mind taking a woman on your no-female weekends, you can still fish with him. I'll just be one of the guys."

Davey looked her up and down. "It would be real hard to think of you as one of the guys, Ms. Haverty…"

Holding her hand up to stop him, she corrected him. "Leah."

"Leah…well, it would, and it might be a little awkward for you, especially when some of the more colorful language starts flying."

A sly smile formed on her lips. "If you can't take it, don't dish it out."

Trapper laughed. "It seems you've been issued a challenge, Davey."

Laughing with him, she said, "If you folks will excuse me, I need to make sure the wine and champagne continue to flow. I'll be right back."

Davey moved to Trapper's side and leaned slightly in. "Looks like you've caught a keeper."

Grunting as he nodded, Trapper wore a smile as he watched her disappear into the kitchen.


	95. Chapter 95

**Chapter Ninety-Five**

Toward the end of the evening, Trapper corralled Leah who had proven to be a worthy hostess, making small talk with those she had just met and cutting up with those she knew between her trips to the kitchen to keep food and drinks moving.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Trapper raised his glass and tapped it with a spoon, calling for everyone's attention. "I know you all think you're here celebrating the recent grant the hospital received. Well, you've been deceived. The real reason Leah and I threw this party, inviting our closest friends, those who we most wanted to share this occasion…"

Moving the back of her hand to her head, Ernie leaned back against Gonzo. "Someone catch me. I'm think I'm going to faint." The room erupted in laughter.

"Thank you, Ernie, for the melodrama," said Trapper, laughing with everyone else. With his arm around her, he looked down at Leah and smiled. "When I asked her to marry me, she said 'You said you'd never marry again, that it costs too much.'" The room groaned. "'We fight too much.'" Another groan ensued. "And 'I need time to think,' to which I said, 'you think too much.'" This time there was chuckling and nodding. "She didn't actually say the word 'yes' until she walked in the door tonight. But she did say it, and I'm holding her to it." He bent and tenderly kissed her smile.

"Where's the ring?" asked someone at the back of the crowd.

Trapper cleared his throat. "Excuse me for just a minute." He turned to face Leah and stuck his hand down the front of her blouse, eliciting catcalls from the room.

She turned bright red. "This is embarrassing. Stop groping and grab the chain."

Chuckling as he pulled the chain up, he let her slip it over her head and unfasten the clasp, then took the ring and slipped it on her finger. 'Aws' and light laughter spread around the room as Trapper kissed her one more time. "The ceremony will be at Antonio's next Friday night at seven in the evening after which we will have dinner. You're all invited."

Gonzo stepped up in front of them and raised his glass. "May I propose a toast…to Dr. John Trapper McIntyre and Mrs. John…" He stopped at the daggers shooting his way from her eyes. "Oh, maybe not what tradition would expect…and the future Mrs. Leah Haverty McIntyre."

Leah had gotten into the habit of swimming most mornings when she had spent the night alone. She'd take the seventy-two steps down to the beach below the pool house, walk down the shore to China Beach and swim laps back and forth in front of the gently sloping sands. This particular morning was no different.

"Good morning," said a young man who looked like he had just come out of the water.

"Good morning. How's the water?"

"I'll just say thank goodness for wet suits. Enjoy your swim."

She donned her wet suit, waded to the drop off and then swam another ten feet out. Turning parallel to the shore, she began to swim her laps.

An hour later, a mother and her two children walked down a deserted China Beach and came upon a woman's body washed up on shore. She hurried to the nearest house and called the police. It wasn't long before the beach was swarming with police, ambulance attendants and representatives from the Medical Examiner's office.

"She's warm," said the officer kneeling beside her. "Is the ME here yet?"

"Dr. Stephens!" called the officer who was standing at the other side of the body.

"Have you moved her?"

"Yes sir. Just to get her out of the water. But she's warm."

Stephens looked up at the sun, shading his eyes with his hand and squinting. "It's the black wetsuit. Without it, it would have been too cold to swim. Any witnesses?"

"No sir. A woman and her two children found her while they were walking. They said there wasn't anyone else on the beach. There's no ID on her."

"Does she have all of her limbs?"

"Not a mark on her. "

"Anything around to suggest foul play?"

"Nothing so far. The beach is clean other than footprints."

Turning to his assistant, Dr. Stephens said, "Process the body and get her back to the morgue. And get a good picture of her face. We may need help to identify her. Officer, send a copy of your report to the morgue." Taking one more look, he saw something familiar and knelt next to her, moving her hair from her face. Sucking in a quick breath, he realized he had met this woman very recently.

"Dad, when was JT supposed to meet us?"

"You know your brother, Kim," he answered with a smile. "He likes to keep his father waiting whenever possible."

"Can we go ahead and order? I'm starved."

"No, we're waiting for someone else for lunch."

Kim's eyes brightened when she looked up at her father. "Mom?"

He gave her an apologetic look. "No, it's not your mother." He was about to tell his daughter for the hundredth time that he and her mother were not getting back together, but JT finally walked in the door of the restaurant. "Your brother is here," he said, waving to get JT's attention.

"Hi, Pop. Sis. I hope this is really important. I'm skipping a class for this." Trapper frowned. "Don't worry, Pop. I'm already way ahead in this one."

"We're waiting for one more person."

"Yeah? Who?" asked JT as he took a piece of bread out of the basket sitting in the center of the table.

"I asked you both here to meet someone. And before she gets here, I want all your questions out of the way, so I'll just tell you. I've asked her to marry me."

"You brought us here to meet someone after you asked?" said Kim, her eyes and mouth wide in wounded astonishment.

"Yeah, Dad. How come you didn't let us meet her before?" the young man asked, echoing his sister's sentiment.

"Look, you two. I'm old enough that I don't need permission to ask a woman to marry me."

"But what about mom?"

"Your mother has already met her…and she likes her…and she wishes us well."

Kim turned away wearing a frown, and JT shook his head. "Nice of you to spring this on us, Pop."

Throwing his hands up, Trapper leaned forward so that he didn't have to talk to the entire restaurant. "What do you think I asked you here for? It doesn't matter that I've already asked her. What would really have been unfair would be to tell you after we were married. Now, she's going to be here any minute. I expect you two to give her a chance."

Kim and JT looked at each other. "Where'd you meet her?" asked Kim sullenly.

JT shot another question right after Kim's. "What does she do?"

Trapper met each of their eyes in turn. "I met her at the hospital when she was a contractor installing the new computer system. She's the Chief Information Officer now. She's a computer system engineer."

"Intellectual type," JT remarked.

"She was also a patient."

"Aren't you supposed to stay away from relationships with your patients?" asked Kim snidely.

"She wasn't my patient," Trapper answered, smiling. "Though I kept up with her progress."

Taking a deep breath, Kim actually felt a little sorry for the woman. "What was wrong with her?"

"Her heart. She's a heart transplant patient, and her new heart developed a hole. Dr. Gates and I repaired it."

Both Kim and JT sat back and stared. "Dad, you're not marrying her because you feel…I don't know…sorry…for her, are you?"

"Of course not, JT. If you didn't know she had a problem with her heart, you wouldn't know it by looking at her. Just wait until she gets here. I just want you to give her a chance. I think you'll like her."

JT pulled another roll out of the basket. "Well, when's she supposed to be here? I'm starved."

Giving each of them a dismayed look, Trapper asked, "I give you enough money to eat well at school. How can you both be starved?" Their answer was interrupted by Trapper's pager. "It's the hospital. I'll be right back," he said, looking for the phone.

Looking over at his sister, JT pushed the bread basket toward her. "Why are you so down?"

"I thought it would be Mom."

"Come on, Kim. Mom said she and Dad wouldn't be getting back together a long time ago. Remember, she was the first one who was going to marry someone else." He pulled a small piece of bread off his roll and slowly chewed. "Who knows? Maybe Dad'll mellow out a little with someone in his life."

"Excuse me. I'm Dr. McIntyre, and I've received a page from the hospital. Is there a phone I can use?" The man at the register moved a phone from the back counter to the front. "Thank you," said Trapper, dialing. "This is Dr. McIntyre. I was paged."

"Just one minute, Dr. McIntyre. I'll transfer you."

"Trapper, this is Ernie. You need to come to the hospital. It's Leah."

He had been watching his kids, but now turned his back to them. "Leah? Is she all right?"

"Just get here as fast as you can."

"I'm on my way." He trotted over to Kim and JT. "Come on. We've got to go to the hospital."

"What about the lady we're here to meet?" asked JT, rising and shoving a roll in his pocket.

"She's at the hospital. Let's go."


	96. Chapter 96

**Chapter Ninety-Six**

Trapper didn't bother parking in the lot. Rather, he pulled up to the curb at the front of the hospital and rushed in with Kim next to him and JT catching up from parking his motorcycle. Ernie was waiting for him in the lobby.

"Where is she?"

"Why don't we go upstairs?" said Ernie gently.

With his brows furrowed over a determined look, he took Ernie by her arms. "Ernie!" he said through gritted teeth.

Taking his face in her hands, she looked into his eyes, barely able to hold back her own tears. "There's been an accident, Trapper. We need to go upstairs." His stomach turned a somersault as she took his hand and led him to the elevator.

She took him to his office where a number of people had gathered; Arnold, Gonzo, Gloria, Stanley. Kim and JT slid in through the door and stood in a corner. It was Boyd Stephens' face that made him step back and take in a shuddering breath. "Boyd…" Closing his eyes, a tear squeezed out and ran down his cheek. He found it hard to breathe as if the air had been knocked out of him. It took a moment to finish his sentence. "Are you here in an…official capacity?"

Boyd took Trapper's arm and motioned for him to sit at the desk. As Trapper walked, he couldn't look up into the faces of his friends. Leaning on the desk, he turned the corner and slowly sat in his chair, all the while, staring out and wondering what could possibly have happened.

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Boyd looked down at his clasped hands. He knew Trapper understood. Still, explaining the events of the morning was going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever do. "It appears she was swimming off China Beach."

Trapper sat back in his chair with his hands limp in his lap. "She swam laps early when she stayed at the pool house."

"A woman who was walking her children on the beach this morning found her in the surf. There wasn't anyone else on the beach. Trapper, was she a strong swimmer?"

Looking up at Boyd with wet eyes, he answered, "Yes. She would swim at least two miles every time she went out. Are you telling me she drowned?"

"Most likely, but I don't know yet. Could it have been something else?"

Trapper glanced over at Gonzo who stepped forward. "She was a heart recipient. Eight months ago we had to repair an atrial aneurism. But she was doing fine. Her ECG looked good."

"I want to see her."

"Trapper, maybe you should wait…"

Trapper's nostrils flared as he stood. "I'm going to the morgue…with or without you." As he walked toward the door, he noticed Kim and JT in the corner. "Kim…"

"It's okay, Dad. I'll get a ride to Mom's."

Ernie touched his arm. "I'll see that she gets there, Trapper." When he met her eyes, she couldn't stop the tears this time. He touched her forehead with his, squeezed her shoulders and left.

He drove straight to the morgue with Boyd arriving right behind him. After Boyd signed them into the storage room, he opened the door of the locker and pulled out the table. "I'll be right outside the door."

Waiting until he heard the door close, he raised his hand to pull down the sheet. "It can't be," he whispered, hesitating. How could it? Their lives were just about to begin. It couldn't end before it even started. Pulling the sheet down, he moved his hand to cover his mouth, and then lowered his head and wept. He had moved his hand to touch her face, but drew back. Her skin would be cold, and he wanted to remember her warmth.

When he came out of the storage room, Boyd was leaning against the wall, waiting. "The autopsy will be day after tomorrow. Do you know who I should call…besides you?"

Without looking at him, Trapper answered, "Her attorney, Albert Shaefer, is in town for the wedding. He's staying at the Fairmont."

Boyd squeezed Trapper's shoulder as he turned to go. "Where will you be?"

"Home…office…I don't know."

As Trapper headed down the hall for the exit, Boyd called after him. "If you don't answer, I'll page you. If you don't call back, I'm sending someone to find you." He was ignored.

Trapper sat in his car as lost as he could possibly be. He couldn't bring himself to go back to the silence of his house. It had so recently been filled with her laughter. He didn't want to face anyone at the hospital even though he knew they'd be worried. Finally, he put the key in the ignition and cranked the car, took a deep breath to stem the heat he felt rising in his face, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward the pool house. Their times at the pool house had been quiet, relaxed…peaceful.

When he opened the sliding door, he stopped and looked around the still darkness of the room, sniffing the air. Her scent still lingered. Pushing all the sliding glass doors open, he let the breeze she loved so much blow in. Though it was much stronger tonight, he didn't care. Walking through the small house, he remembered the last conversation they had in each room; the bathroom where they had relaxed in the big Jacuzzi tub and talked about their lives together, the kitchen where he'd chided her about how unhealthy Chicken Alfredo was, the bed where they had lain in each other's arms, where he had made love to her. He clenched his teeth, choking back his tears. And finally, the deck where he'd held her at the rail, felt her fingers interlace with his, felt her breathe…felt her love…while watching the fog roll in.

If this was how she'd felt losing John, JJ and Beth, he wondered how she survived the unspeakable heartache; how he'd survive it.

Standing at the rail, he looked out over the ocean with tears streaming down his face. This was her ocean; her catharsis. It was a clear night, and the stars far out beyond the glow of the city twinkled…like her eyes when she smiled.

As he closed the last sliding door, he looked back one more time wishing the events of the last day had all been a mistake. Wish as he might, he couldn't deny it. He had seen for himself. Met with only silence, he softly said, "I'll never stop loving you, Leah," then closed the door on what might have been.

**The End**


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